


don't worry

by JMonCheri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoption, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Leukemia, M/M, One Shot, VictUuri, Wedding Fluff, i want to die, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMonCheri/pseuds/JMonCheri
Summary: Time seemed to slow to a stop, at first Viktor seemed to falter as he slowed alongside with time, his flush obvious on his cheeks. Viktor stopped skating, his form stayed frozen on the rink, before promptly dropping to the ice like a ragdoll.Yuuri gasps alongside with the crowd. Viktor did not do any jumps, spins, or anything. Viktor Nikiforov, his undefeatable champion, his naive Fiancé, his love, his everything, has simply fainted.Viktor did not look like he was going to get up anytime soon.For the first time that night, Yuuri allowed himself to listen to the announcer’s booming voices.“Viktor Nikiforov has fainted! Where are the medics? I repeat, Viktor Nikiforov has fainted!”





	1. Chapter 1

Yuuri would never admit it, but he sort of hated the cold.

 

It was no surprise. Lots of people dreaded the chilly season. Yuuri didn't like the way the chill brought him to a shivering mess, nor did he like the fact that it made his toes turn into brittle sticks. He hated the fact that he has to add layers upon layers of clothing just to keep himself warm. He also hated the fact that his mother often made him trudge through layers of snow back in Hasetsu, it was a hassle, really.

 

He also hated that a _certain_ figure would often coil himself around Yuuri whenever he needed body heat. Viktor was like an  _icicle,_ and it didn't help that Yuuri was a medium of body heat for him. Sometimes he  _did_ like the cold, it brought hot chocolate mugs and fluffy blankets and fireplaces and cuddling.

 

It was the cuddling that Yuuri liked the most.

 

Yuuri enters their shared hotel room, shaking the snow that had gathered on his hair away. This has taken the attention of a certain Viktor Nikiforov, who was lounging on the hotel bed, mindlessly flipping through some channels on crappy hotel cable.

 

“Jesus, you look like a tomato.” Viktor says, a small smile on his face.

 

“Is it a good thing, or a bad thing?” Yuuri mumbles, removing multiple layers of clothing from his body.

 

“You’re a very cute tomato, so yes.” Viktor chuckled at Yuuri’s rapidly reddening face, as if it wasn’t red enough. Viktor sets the remote on the bed, hand outstretching towards Yuuri. “Come here.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Yuuri walks over and puts his ungloved hand in Viktor’s. Viktor placed his other hand on his, enrapturing his hand. “You’re so cold.” Viktor murmurs. Yuuri yelps when Viktor pulls him in, and wraps him in a hug.

 

Yuuri squeals as Viktor’s octopus like legs entangle around him, trapping him in a mass of body heat. “You look like you need a little warmth.” Viktor murmurs in Yuuri’s hair, smile evident. Yuuri sighs a little, liking the little tingles of heat passing through him, and Yuuri relaxes into his hold.

 

“If only Makkachin is here.” Yuuri mumbles into Viktor’s chest, already missing the fluffy poodle.

 

“If only.”

 

Honestly, forget it. Yuuri didn’t care if Viktor wanted body heat, he’d be willing to give it.

 

(they both fell asleep with the T.V on, and the hotel had to add additional charges)

 

_-_

 

“Vitya, _no-_ “

 

“Vitya yes.” Viktor pouts, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

 

“You don’t have to-“

 

“I want you to be comfortable as _much_ as possible.” Viktor says, looking at Yuuri with some sort of determination that Yuuri had only seen on the ice.

 

“Thank you for thinking of me, but we can’t everything that’s in my room over to St. Petersburg-“

 

“Can, and will.”

 

“Viktor-“ Yuuri rubs his temples with a dainty finger, but he could not remove the smile on his face. “No.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Viktor huffs, dejected. “I just want my little Katsudon to feel at home-“

 

Yuuri smirks when he takes a step closer, and places a small kiss on Viktor’s currently blushing nose.

 

 “I have you, Vitya. I’ll feel at home enough, trust me.”

 

(they only had to bring one third of Yuuri’s belongings, much to Viktor’s dismay)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri starts to worry a little at practice.

 

Viktor steps out of the rink, a sweaty mess. Chest heaving, hair disheveled, sweat was running down his face like it was in a race or something. Yakov and a few other skaters have glanced at him sympathetically. However, it was not a new sight. Lots of people got tired at practice, it was normal.

 

Yuuri worried anyways.

 

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asks as Viktor bends down to put on his skate guards, placing a hand on his shoulder. Viktor flinches for a bit, but Yuuri does not note it.

 

Viktor swallows, and he looks up at Yuuri with a tired smile on his face. “I’m okay, Yuuri. Although, a little tired.” He loops a loose arm around Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

Viktor looks at him with the same, easy going smile he’s always had, and Yuuri’s heart couldn’t help but flutter.

 

“Let’s call it a day, no?”

 

(they spent the rest of the day watching Disney movies)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri felt like his cheeks would fall out.

 

His grin was too much to bear.

 

“V…Viktor-“ A laugh had escaped his mouth, and he clamped his hand over his it. “Wha… What are you-“

 

“Don’t laugh, or I swear to god I will shove the remaining flour on you.” Viktor growls, coughing when some of the powdery substance catches in his mouth.

 

Viktor Nikiforov, five time gold medalist and one of the hottest males alive, was standing in their kitchen wearing a Hello Kitty apron with flour and some sort of sticky substance all over his head.

 

Yuuri bites on the inside of his cheek, before coughing into his fist. “Oh, um, what happened?” He asks nonchalantly, his voice holding a teasing edge to it.

 

“I was… I was trying to _cook_ for once, and… and then the flour fell, and-“ Viktor scowls when Yuuri finally bursts, bending over and clutching at his middle as the peals of laughter escaped his mouth.

 

“Oh, it’s _on_.”

 

Yuuri could barely run out of the way when Viktor dumps the remaining flour on his head.

 

It escalated from there.

 

(it took them hours to clean up the mess, but at least they did it together)

 

_-_

 

“You’re not eating?” Yuuri mumbles, mouth slightly full of rice. Viktor smiles fondly.

 

“No thank you, seeing you is enough already.” Viktor winks.

 

Yuuri pelts pepper at him.

 

(“very mature” Viktor chuckles, shoving the little black seasonings down Yuuri’s shirt)

 

_-_

 

 

Yuuri is not much of a heavy sleeper.

 

It does not surprise him when Viktor’s soft murmurs wake him up in the middle of the night.

 

Viktor was talking quietly on the phone, his voice soft yet urgent, as if he loathes the conversation. His back was turned to him, as to he was perched on the edge of the bed. The conversation seemed serious, it was in rapid Russian so Yuuri could not understand a single word.

 

Yuuri shifts and Viktor’s head whips around so hard he could’ve gotten a whiplash. Viktor murmurs some sort of goodbye into the phone, before he sets it down.

 

“Who was that?” Yuuri mutters, knuckling one sleepy eye. Viktor is quick to lay by his side, snuggling up to him.

 

“No one, just some out-of-country executive.” Viktor murmurs, wrapping his arms around Yuuri. “Go back to sleep, love.”

 

Yuuri sleeps.

 

(he pretends he didn’t get woken up at the ring of Viktor’s phone hours later)

 

_-_

 

Yakov, surprisingly, was very nice.

 

“-and then, I remember, I used to teach ballet.”

 

“Wow, you did?” Yuuri asks, feigning some curiosity as he looks at the old man. During one of their breaks, he’d say next to Yakov, who seemed happy enough to spill out decades worth of stress to the patient Yuuri.

 

“Yes, alongside with my wife.” Yakov smiles, eyes crinkling. But the smile falters, like Yakov had just remembered something terrible.

 

It had grown silent, and Yuuri had started to fidget a little. He’d thought of going back to the rink and practice the routine he has planned for the next season, when Yakov stops him.

 

“Where’s Vitya, anyways?” Yakov grunts, noticing the absence of the silver haired man, and Yuuri scratches the back of his neck.

 

“He’s out with an important meeting, I’m not sure.”

 

“Meeting?” Yakov raises an eyebrow. “What meeting?”

 

Yuuri shrugs. “He says he’s arranging stuff for the both of us for the next season, medical things, I think? I don’t know.”

 

Yuuri sighs, and runs his hands through his hair. “He’s been a little off lately; maybe a little weird, but I trust him. I love him anyways.”

 

Yakov sighs, and leans against the bleachers. “Love is a dangerous, dangerous thing, boy.” Yakov murmurs, his accent thick, and Yuuri raises an eyebrow.

 

Yakov faces Yuuri, his face showing the burdens and stresses of life, but it had a tone of softness towards it.

 

“I know ‘tis not an appropriate time, but will you promise me one thing?” Yakov asks, eyes suddenly receding of its stony coldness that it usually has, and Yuuri gulps. “Viktor has been a pain in the ass, but I’m glad he’s been my student. He’s fragile, so take care of him, will you?”

 

Yuuri could barely nod.

 

(later on, Viktor gives Yuuri his medical record. Viktor refused on showing his.)

 

_-_

 

“I used to have a dog like Makkachin.” Yuuri says, stroking the sleeping dog that was curled up next to Viktor.

 

Viktor’s eyes opened, and his head rises slightly to look at Yuuri curiously. “Really now?”

 

Yuuri smiles fondly. “I named him Vicchan.” Yuuri pouts when Viktor laughs. “It’s not funny.”

 

“No, it’s not.” Viktor says, reaching up to brush away the locks of hair that covered Yuuri’s face. “It’s kind of adorable, actually. You really were my number one fan.” Viktor wiggles his eyebrows.

 

Yuuri blushed, but he scowls. “Yeah, right.”

 

“Aw, don’t feel so bad Yuuri!” Viktor says, his heart shaped smile evident. “I’M your number one fan!”

 

Yuuri chuckles. “Really now?”Yuuri huffs, crossing his arms. “I’m sure I have _lots_ of other fans out there-“

 

Yuuri yelps when Viktor suddenly pins him down, trapping his hands to either side of his head as Viktor kneels over him, a predatory look on his face.

 

“If I wasn’t your number one fan, wouldn’t I be able to do _this_?” Viktor leans down and gives Yuuri’s neck a long, wet; lick, from his collarbone to just below his jaw.

 

Yuuri shivers.

 

(a few hours later, Viktor has finally had Yuuri convinced)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri had just noticed it now, but Viktor has been flinching a lot lately.

 

At every given physical contact, Viktor either jumps or scurries away like he was in pain. Yuuri was starting to get a little worried. Even if it was a simple shoulder touch, or a hug, there’s always this small little jump in Viktor’s body whenever Yuuri touched him.

 

Not only that, but it was also Viktor’s wardrobe choices. His hoodies were running OUT, Viktor wore them _constantly_ , no more of these tight fitted training shirts that Yuuri liked. Even asleep, No longer was Viktor stark naked, or half-naked, for the least.

 

“Viktor, can you take off your shirt?” Yuuri says, out of the blue.

 

This seemed to bring fear into Viktor’s eyes, because those blue orbs were staring at him widely. “W-Wha-“

 

“Take of your shirt.” Yuuri simply commands, Makkachin, who was in his lap, yips. “Why, do you have a problem?”

 

“B-But Yuuri-“

 

“Take it off, now.” Yuuri grunts, voice gone commander.

 

Viktor freezes for a moment, staring at Yuuri intently. Yuuri was not willing to loose, so he fixated his strong stare on the man.

 

Viktor sighs, grabs the hem of his sweater, and takes the article of clothing off.

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen.

 

“I’m sorry.” Viktor says, eyes filled with panic. “I got them at practice.”

 

Yuuri reaches over and his fingers dance over the array of dark purple bruises that littered Viktor’s torso, a stark contrast against his pale white skin. Yuuri could see some of them on his back too, and a few on his upper arms. Viktor flinches at the touch, and Yuuri retreats his hand.

 

Were they… Were they love marks? Yuuri bites his lip, loathing the idea. But he pushed it away. His trust in Viktor was far too much, and they were _far_ too big to be love marks. Either way, it explained the long sleeved shirts Viktor always sported.

 

“… how?” Yuuri asks, looking at him in the eyes. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Viktor’s shoulders droop. “Failed landings.” Viktor sighs, purses his lip. “I’m not perfect, Yuuri. I flub jumps from time to time too, you know.”

 

“I flub jumps TOO!” Yuuri says, eyebrows scrunching up in frustration. “I’m a literal giraffe on ice sometimes, Viktor, damn it! And yet, look at me.” He holds out his arms to his sides. “Not a scratch.”

 

“I’ve always been an easy bruiser, Yuuri.” Viktor raises an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I thought you knew that?”

 

“Your charm is not gonna work on me, Nikiforov.” Yuuri huffs. Viktor pouts.

 

(after some scolding and herbal ointment later, Yuuri eventually forgives him)

 

 

_-_

 

They can’t go out to eat tonight.

 

“Why not?” Yuuri asks, eyes slightly narrowing at Viktor’s form, who was already dressed in his trench coat and scarf, ready to leave.

 

“I have… important matters to attend to, Yuuri.” Viktor says, taking his messenger bag off its hook. “I’m really sorry, love. There’s _nothing_ I wouldn’t do to spend time with you-“

 

“Then what’s holding you back?” Yuuri asks, voice hard. He’s not angry, not really. To put it on a better term…. He’d say he’s frustrated.

 

“It’s…” Viktor’s voice falters, and he tries his best not to look at Yuuri in the eye. “It’s really important, please, Yuuri.” Viktor’s eyes now held a pleading tone to them, and he takes Yuuri by the shoulders and looks at him in the eye.

 

“Don’t you trust me?”

 

(he does, but Yuuri isn’t sure if it was a good idea)

 

_-_

 

Later that night, Yuuri wakes up and feels Viktor go back home. He does not alert Viktor that he is awake, so he just stays there, pretending to be asleep.

 

Viktor snuggles up next to him, and pulls him close, Viktor murmurs sweet nothings into Yuuri’s ear as he drifts off to sleep.

 

Later that morning, Yuuri stands up to start the day.

 

Until a hand stops him.

 

He’s a little taken aback to see Viktor’s face, sleepy but desperate. He’s looking at Yuuri through half-lidded eyes, lips chapped.

 

“Please, stay.”

 

“Vitya, we have practice-“

 

“Stay.”

 

Yuuri gulps, pushing away the hair that was concealing Viktor’s face.

 

He starts to worry when he sees tears in Viktor’s eyes.

 

So Yuuri, against everything he’s ever taught for, climbs back on the bed, and holds Viktor close. Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri’s middle as a silent thank you, and there they stay.

 

Yuuri’s worry intensifies when he hears Viktor sob into his chest, feeling his tears dampen his shirt. His Vitya was crying, and no matter how many times Yuuri had asked why, Viktor had never told him the reasons of his tears.

 

(Yuuri feels horrible because he never got to find out why)

 

_-_

 

 

They started the season, and it has been a _whirlwind_ of activity.

 

The new spread out like wildfire, Viktor Nikiforov makes his comeback, while being a coach. Many cheered, many speculated, many hated, but the two did not care.

 

The both of them were there to support each other through it all. There to cheer for the other whenever they would perform, and there to inspire each other as a fellow rival. They have done well in the qualifying competitions, Viktor winning gold at the Italia Cup and Yuuri getting nice silver at Skate America, points below Gold.

 

Now, they were qualified for the next round, the Rostelecom Cup. It was just like the Rostelecom Cup Yuuri had joined last year, except this was held in a rink in Moskva, a city near St. Petersburg. This was amazing for both Yuuri and Viktor, because after being apart for the qualifying competitions, they’d be able to see each other and rest in the confines of their home in St. Petersburg

 

And now, here Yuuri was, curled up against Viktor on their couch. Viktor, who tried not to dwell on the fact that he’s going to compete against his fiancé, strokes Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri, who tried his best not to let his jitters get to him, snuggled closer into Viktor’s touch, with Makkachin by their sides, snoring softly.

 

It was nights like these that Yuuri allowed himself to be at his weakest, his most vulnerable state. It was okay for him to let his guard down; he had Viktor to take care of him if he needed it.

 

“God, why are you so pale?” Yuuri murmurs, his fingers tracing over the pale, moonlight soft skin. He’d known Viktor was pale, but this was too much.Viktor shudders. “Your skin is literally _glowing-_ “

 

“Well, guess you could say I’m your _knight in shining armor_ , huh.” Viktor says, grinning at Yuuri.

 

Yuuri rolls his eyes.

 

(he wished the night lasted longer)

 

_-_

 

Later on, Yuuri exits the shower, shivering slightly when the cold air slices through his still slightly wet skin, into his bones. He runs his hand through his wet hair, and catches Viktor on the table, writing something.

 

"Have you eaten yet?" Yuuri asks, toweling his hair. Viktor shakes his head, and Yuuri scowls.

 

"You should eat, I don't want you to die of starvation." He says, half-heartedly. Viktor smiles, and nods. Yuuri raises an eyebrow at Viktor, who seemed to pour out his heart and soul into that piece of paper.

 

“Vitya?” Yuuri asks, heading over. He peers over Viktor’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the words on it. “A Bucket List?” He gives Viktor a crooked smile. “For what?”

 

Viktor smiles up at him. “Ah, it’s nothing.” Viktor shrugs. “Figured I was getting a little old, decided to change things up a bit.”

 

“You’re not _that_ old.” Yuuri says, poking his head. Viktor pouts, before returning his concentration on the paper.

 

Yuuri scans over the paper, raising his eyebrows at the little quirky things Viktor has added ( _eat the spiciest thing I could find, jump in a ball pit, beat Chris in Poker_ ), laughing at some ridiculous wishes ( _wear Yuuri’s clothes for a week, try to make Yurio turn to the dog side, prank JJ_ )

 

He’d just realized how deep of a human Viktor is, how ridiculously flawed this man was and Yuuri loved him for it. Viktor Nikiforov was a man who likes Katsudon and skating and surprising people. He loved dogs more than humans and Yuuri over anything. He skips and trips and lands on his face. He likes walks and jumping in ball pits and spicy things and making Bucket Lists.

 

And there, Yuuri sees an item that makes his heart soar to the stars.

 

( _Marry Yuuri Katsuki after he wins Gold)_

(“wait, i take it back.” “no, Vitya, you have to wait for me to win Gold first.” “but i wanna marry you n o w.” “no.” “even if we just skip to the honeymoon?” “… you know what that’s actually a good idea.”)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri starts to worry again later on at the public practice.

 

There, all of the competitors have gathered and have done their training. It was good, to say the least. Yuuri couldn’t help but feel warmth whenever he would spend some time with friends, or _possible_ -friends to say the least.

 

However, when he saw Viktor, the warmth dissipated with fear.

 

“Vitya?” Yuuri asks, sitting next to the silver haired man on the bench. “What’s wrong?”

 

Viktor’s head snapped up so fast, eyes wide and surprised to see Yuuri sitting next to him. “O-Oh, what?” Viktor says, placing his hands on his lap, trying to act as if he hasn’t been cradling his head like he was in pain a few moments ago.

 

“Are you okay? Should I bring you to a clinic?” Yuuri asks, rubbing soothing circles on Viktor’s back. “Are you not feeling well? Should we back out-“

 

“NO!” Viktor barks, Yuuri winces at the sharp tone. Viktor sighs in resentment. “I’m sorry, no… I’m feeling okay, love.”Viktor smiles sheepishly, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“Are you sure?” Yuuri insists, trying to catch Viktor’s fleeting gaze. “I’m worried-“

 

“No, please.” Viktor takes Yuuri’s hand, and rubs small soothing circles on the palm. “I’m okay… I’m okay.”

 

Viktor places a kiss on his knuckles, the feather like touch sent warmth back into his stomach.

 

“God, I love you. I love you so much. Stop worrying about me, okay?”

 

(Yuuri still worries)

 

_-_

 

 

 

Yuuri watches his Fiancé skate, and his heart leaps.

 

His heart leaps when Viktor skates out, skating around the rink without a care. His heart leaps when the music starts. His heart leaps when Viktor does the routine they have practiced together for _months_. His heart leaps when they lock eyes, even just for the briefest of moments.

 

And still, he worries.

 

He worries about Viktor. He worries about their win. He worries about his behavior. He worries about the bruises, the tears, the odd little things that Yuuri could never pass up as mere quirks.

 

And his worry was replaced by absolute _dread_.

 

Time seemed to slow to a stop, at first Viktor seemed to falter as he slowed alongside with time, his flush obvious on his cheeks. Viktor stopped skating, his form stayed frozen on the rink, before promptly _dropping_ to the ice like a ragdoll.

 

Yuuri gasps alongside with the crowd. Viktor did not do any jumps, spins, or anything. Viktor Nikiforov, his undefeatable champion, his naïve Fiancé, his love, his everything, has simply fallen.

 

Viktor did not look like he was going to get up anytime soon.

 

For the first time that night, Yuuri allowed himself to listen to the announcer’s booming voices.

 

“ **Viktor Nikiforov has fainted! Where are the medics? I repeat, Viktor Nikiforov has fainted!** ”

 

(something inside Yuuri fainted alongside with Viktor)

_-_

 

Yuuri could barely make it through the Doctor's visit. He hated it. He hated it. He hated the droning, monotone, sympathetic voice this man has. He hated the way Viktor is so stiff next to him, not bothering to say a word. He hated the way the words cut through him like a fucking  _knife._

 

They said it was leukemia.

 

Yuuri had tried his best to listen to every word the doctor said. As the visit progressed, so did things get much clearer.

 

The night sweats and the headaches, the easy bruising and loss of appetite, the random nightmares and the fatigue, the pale skin and Viktor's frailness.

 

The odd behavior Viktor showed. The late night phone calls and the random disappearances.

 

When they have arrived at this prescibed doctor for Viktor, it was clear that it was not the first time that Viktor had visited him. Yuuri had glared at Viktor and the man hung his head in shame.

 

They said that Viktor was lucky. They said that people with chronic leukemia shouldn't have that much strength at Viktor's age bracket. Viktor managed to skate half of his routine with a few jumps added in. Viktor was lucky.

 

However...

 

_however however however however-_

 

There was no stopping it. Soon Viktor would loose strength and his youth and his smile. He wouldn't be able to walk, be active, or even talk. He'd never be able to step foot on ice again or even dance. Soon he'd loose everything.

 

(Yuuri felt like he'd loose everthing too)

 

_-_

 

First came the rage.

 

"Why didn't you TELL ME?" Yuuri hissed, feeling his eyes spring to life with tears. He wasn't angry with a specific person. He was angry at the world and God and stupid. Fucking. Leukemia. He was angry at himself for being so weak and he was angry at Viktor for being too strong and not tellling him.

 

Viktor hangs his head in shame.

 

"I didn't want you to worry." Viktor mumbles, voice low like a scolded child.

 

"It's my JOB to worry, Viktor!" Yuuri seethes through his teeth, a stream of tears now rolling down his cheeks. "And what, you would wait until you simply  _dropped dead_ and  _that's_ when you'd tell me?!"

 

Yuuri huffs, running his hand through his hair. "How long have you known?" He asks, voice much more softer, but still laced with pain.

 

Viktor's gaze is glued to his feet. "Two years."

 

Yuuri nearly falls over. His gaze snaps to Viktor, who was looking sad and shameful and so.... So vulnerable.

 

"Two years?!" Yuuri shrieks. Viktor nods, and sighs as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

 

"Before my last Grand Prix. The doctors said they found something wrong in my bloodstream and... And I was supposed to retire. I wanted to give up..." Viktor risks a look at Yuuri, who burned Viktor's heart with his tears and the heartbroken look on his face.

 

"No... No, love." Viktor stands up and tries to reach out and take Yuuri's hand, but Yuuri shrugs his hand away. Viktor looks heartbroken. "Yuuri, no,  _please-"_

 

Yuuri sobs, feeling the anger dissipate to dread and fear. Viktor does not say a single word.

 

Viktor was sick.

 

Viktor was sick and there was no cure. 

 

Viktor wouldn't last any longer.

 

The words have settled into Yuuri and the pain started to come at him, stabbing at his chest and clouding his mind with thoughts. So many thoughts that Yuuri wished he'd never have to think about someone.

 

(Yuuri leaves the room before he could say anything else)

 

((And only then Viktor let his tears fall))

 

_-_

 

Yuuri returns to their apartment a few hours later, looking stony and miserable with an unreadable expression on his face.

 

He barely knocks on the door and is immediately tackled by a large, silver haired figure.

 

Yuuri doesn't need to think. He wraps his arms around Viktor, holding him close and burying his face in his chest, breathing in Viktor's smell. They stay like that until they both collapse, until they're both just there in the middle of the hallway, holding each other.

 

"I'm sorry." Yuuri mutters, and is immediately shushed by Viktor.

 

"You'll continue skating tomorrow, alright?" Viktor mumbles into Yuuri's hair, eyes closed. "I'll watch you and cheer you on and hug you afterwards."

 

"B-But-"

 

"No, don't worry about me." Viktor smiles as he takes Yuuri and places both palms on his cheeks, cradling his heaf.

 

"You always worry about me so much, love. You don't have to."

 

Yuuri smiles, their foreheads touching.

 

"You don't have to."

 

(he worries anyway)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri wins Gold during the free skate.

 

Everything would've been fine. He would feel happy and ecstatic, feeling the beautiful golden weight on his chest and aaround his neck. He would feel amazing at the crowd' s cheers of approval, and feel the same old warmth of Viktor's hug after his performance.

 

Only it doesn't.

 

Now he's here, drinking the pain away in a hotel room with a certain silver haired man who was already half drunk.

 

"I'm so proud of you-" Viktor hiccups, which makes Yuuri giggle. Viktor sloshes the glass around, splashing the carpet floor with some wine. "I kneeeeeew you could do it! I alwaaaaaays knew-"

 

"Really now?" Yuuri says, raising an eyebrow as he swirls his drink in his cup. He'd been trying to hold back, knowing how crazy he could get when not sober. Viktor had already drank thre and a half bottles, Yuuri wasn't sure.

 

Viktor nods, a giddy smile on his face. "Yup!" He says, and then suddenly his eyes have gone bright. "H-Hey! Hey hey hey, didja knoooow that I'm a pie kick?"

 

Yuuri raises anan eyebrow. "Don't you mean a 'psychic'?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Viktor slurrs, scoffing. "Aaaaanyways, I met this cute drunk guy at a banquet back then- and hey! He kinda, (hic) he kinda looks like youuuuuuu-"

 

Yuuri flushes a deep red. God knows how drunk Viktor is right now.

 

"And... And- the first thing I thought was "DAMN I BETTER MARRY THIS GUY BEFORE HE GETS TAKEN"." Viktor sighs dreamily, eyes glazed over. "I-I wonder, (hic) I wonder what he's doing now, huh. What do _you_ think?" Viktor asks, fluttering his eyelashes at Yuuri.

 

Yuuri scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he smiles. "He's already engaged, you butt."

 

Viktor looks heartbroken. Yuuri nearly weeps at how adorable he is.

 

"Whaaaaaaat?" Viktor slurrs, eyes wide. "B-But... Who took him? WHO-"

 

Yuuri sighs fondly, before shutting his eyes. "An idiot, that's who." 

 

(he then has to haul drunk Viktor back to the bed, who was still cussing about 'the idiot who stole the pole dancing cutie')

 

_-_

 

Yuuri almost refused.

 

Viktor had wanted to go with him to England for the next step in the Grand Prix, except Yuuri had to disagree. It was obvious that Viktor's health was declining. Stairs were mountains and simple walks became miles for Viktor. Yuuri couldn't bear Viktor sacrificing himself just for him. The Russian had insisted they go for a check up just to prove that Viktor was still permitted to travel.

 

He technically still is able to travel, the doctor says, although Viktor is sufficient to straining himself and it may weaken his immune system even more. Viktor had made a solemn promise to not over do himself, or Yuuri will give him an ass whipping.

 

( _kinky_.Viktor had snickered. Yuuri smacks him upside the head)

 

_-_

 

"How about we complete this, huh?"

 

Viktor's eyes have snapped open, looking questionably at Yuuri, who was next to him whilst clutching at a piece of paper. Viktor had recognized it as his Bucket List.

 

"Why?" Viktor had asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's just a stupid little list-"

 

"Come on, Vitya." Yuuri huffs, smiling. "Would you pass up the opportunity to prank JJ?"

 

(they ended up doing almost everything on the list, except for the _Marry Yuuri_ part)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri worried.

 

Yuuri had worried when they landed on England. Yuuri had worried about the competition. Yuuri had worried about his family. Yuuri had worried about the press. Yuuri had worried about the world.

 

Yuuri had worried about Viktor.

 

Yuuri had worried that Viktor had asked for a cane once they reached England. Yuuri had worried that Viktor was constantly  _sheet_ _white_. Yuuri had worried that Viktor had started coughing from time to time. Yuuri had worried that Viktor's eyes had gone from a bright blue to a dark grey.

 

What saved him from his anxious demise was Viktor's smile.

 

It never left him, it seemed to intensify as the days have gone by. Viktor's little side comments had left both of them laughing until they're clutching at their sides and his smile brightened the room wherever he had went. It was if nothing has happened. It was if Viktor was as happy as he could be.

 

Still, Yuuri worried.

 

The press worried too.

 

"I'm officially retiring." Viktor had announced on an interview one day. His face was casual and care free, if not a little stoic. "I'm retiring because of health reasons, obviously. However, I  _will_ continue to coach Katsuki Yuuri of Japan, I am well aware that he may continue my legacy one day when I leave." Viktor chuckles, however, he is met by the grave faces of the camera crew, obviously knowing what is going on. Yuuri is sitting out of the camera's view, hands balled up on his lap as he bites his lip.

 

Viktor clears his throat. "But don't worry! I have a high chance of a survival rate, so expect to see this handsome face more often later on!" Viktor gives out his brightest smile, before throwing a wink at the camera. A few people chuckled, and Yuuri smiles. "Don't worry!"

 

Yuuri figures he'd listen to Viktor for once, and save himself from worrying.

 

(don't tell anyone, but he still worried)

 

_-_

 

"You seem to have increased in passion for the last few days, Yuuri."

 

Yuuri gulps the last of his water bottle, handing it back to Viktor, who was leaning on the other side of the rink's barrier. Yuuri had raised an eyebrow at this questionably. "How so?"

 

"When you skate, the music your body's playing is always beautiful." Viktor comments, fiddling with the golden ring around his finger. "I've noticed that music get stronger with each passing day." Viktor smiles fondly, looking up at Yuuri. "It's amazing."

 

Yuuri could not help at the small blush that dusted his cheeks. "O-Oh, um, thank you." Yuuri says, looking down. Viktor's chuckle resonated throughout the empty rink. They were the last to leave during the public practice that day, and Yuuri couldn't help but appreciate the quality time with Viktor. 

 

He doesn't know how much time he has left with Viktor.

 

"It's amazing how much my life has changed." Viktor says, eyes passing over the rink and the stadium and everything around it, as if it was the last time he'd ever see an ice rink again. "I get to notice things that I don't regularly pay attention to. I feel better when I smile and laugh. I appreciate everything I have."  He says, pointedly looking at Yuuri.

 

Yuuri sifts, eyes downcast.

 

Viktor sighs. "Listen, don't worry okay?" Viktor says, taking Yuuri's hand.

 

"You always say that." Yuuri mumbles, body slightly tired from the practice.

 

"I know. But still." Viktor sighs, his cheeks almost hollow and his cheekbones sharp. "You're gonna do great. I place my bet on it." Viktor smiles at Yuuri. Except it was a tired smile. A sad smile. 

 

Viktor sighs, and places a chaste kiss on Yuuri's lips. "I believe in you." Viktor says, breathless, as if he's in awe of the person in front of him. They stand close, foreheads touching with their eyes closed.

 

"I believe in you."

 

(as long as Viktor believed in him, it was more than enough)

 

 _-_

 

Yuuri had ended his free skate with a Quad Flip.

 

It wasn't planned. It wasn't directed. It wasn't coordinated. Nobody knew about it, unless the fact that Yuuri could barely land it, which he did. It felt nostalgic, really, it reminded Yuuri of the past China Cup, wherein Viktor had promptly kissed him in front of International television.

 

This year wasn't any different.

 

As soon as Yuuri had stepped out of the rink, he was immediately tackled by a silver haired man who kept peppering his face with kisses. Viktor had immediately clung to Yuuri like a lifeline. Viktor had promptly abandoned his cane a few meters away, and he'd been panting due to the running it took him to get to the entrance of the rink.

 

"You... You are amazing." Viktor says between kisses, panting with sweat forming on his face. "Amazing..."

 

Yuuri could not help but smile despite his tiredness, and he wraps Viktor close. "Were I?"

 

Viktor nods, but Yuuri starts to worry when he sees Viktor's eyes start to droop alongside his faltering grip. "I knew.... Knew you could do it." Viktor breaths out, his eyes falling closed, and Yuuri noticed him start to get heavier by the second. Viktor's grip was fading away, and so did his voice. "I knew... You could... Could..."

 

And soon enough, Yuuri found himself crying out for help with an unconscious Viktor Nikiforov in his arms.

 

(it has been the umpteenth time they have gone viral, and Yuuri isn't exactly proud about it)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri does not know if it fate, coincidence, or simply God finally pitying them, but the last competition will take place in Japan.

 

"I... I want to take Makkachin." Viktor wheezes from the hospital bed, eyes glassy and skin as white as snow, but his smile never faltering from its usual brightness. "I want... I want him to see Japan. One last time."

 

Viktor has been hospitalized for a few days in England while the staff has returned his blood pressure back to normal. The doctor's have deemed him stable, but not safe. It is likely for him to have another one of these attacks again, so they doomed him from travelling. It's okay, Yuuri would understand.

 

He'd expected Viktor to fall into the grasp of illness. For him to go depressed and mope and write angsty poetry about how 'life's not fair'. He'd expected Viktor to loose that smile and succumb to morphine. He'd expected Viktor to do what everyone would do.

 

That is, until he remembered that Viktor did  _not_ like doing what everyone would do.

 

"You're fighting?" Christophe asks curtly as he leans against the doorway of the hospital room, a soft smirk on his stubbly face.

 

Viktor nods. "Damn I'll be fighting!" Viktor grins, chewing on one of the pastries Yuuri had brought over. The room was slightly crowded, what with the multiple friends that has chosen to visit. There were some on video calls, including Yakov and Yurio. Not everyone they held near and dear were in England, you know.

 

"I'm not letting this one little virus destroy my beautiful, beautiful face." Viktor smirks, chin up, as if he's challenging this life threatening disease. "I'll live long, you'll see. I'll live long enough until Yuuri and I have adopted kids, including Yurio."

 

"OI, DON'T BRING ME INTO THIS YOU DICKWAD-"

 

(for once, Yuuri smiles)

 

_-_

 

Viktor had asked, begged,  _pleaded_ for the doctors to let him go back to Japan to witness Yuuri's Grand Prix Final. At first, the doctor's were not convinced. But it was no biggie. All Viktor had to do was bring out his puppy dog eyes and his cute heart shaped mouth, and the doctor's were set. Viktor had also mentioned that it was part of his 'last wishes' to go back to Japan.

 

Yuuri flinched at the 'last wishes' part.

 

So now, here they were in Hasetsu station. Yuuri was behind Viktor, who was now doomed to a wheelchair. Viktor whined at his loss of leg mobility, but it wasn't that bad. Viktor could walk a little, but he tired easily. Yuuri was pushing him, a little afraid of the fact that pushing Viktor was  _easy_ because Viktor is literally a bag of bones now.

 

Makkachin leaped off Viktor's lap at the sight of Yuuri's family, all waiting for him there with expectant yet sympathetic smiles on their faces. As Mari happily petted Makkachin, Hiroko had walked up to Viktor and had given him a hug.

 

(Yuuri could've sworn he heard his mother whisper something in Viktor's ear)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri knows Viktor.

 

He knows Viktor's quirks and flaws and passions. He knew Viktor likes lavender and hot baths. He knew Viktor had a soft spot for children. He also knew that Viktor liked watching these stupid documentaries and Disney movies that made him cry. He liked aesthetically pleasing houses and was a nerd for pretty things. He knew that Viktor likes to read and had these little reading glasses that were purely for looks, because he's dramatic that way.

 

Yuuri even knew the little intimate things. He knew about the small birthmark by Viktor's hip (he'd run his tongue over it once or twice). He knew about the small little freckles on Viktor's back. He knew about Viktor's broken family. He knew about their dreams for the future, a future full of simplicity and happiness and where  _nothing goes wrong._

 

Yuuri knows everything, so it does not surprise him when he knows about what Viktor is thinking.

 

He knows what Viktor is thinking when he longingly looks at Yuuri when he ties his skates. He knows what Viktor is thinking when Viktor looks at the rink with an expression that is far too unreadable. He knows what Viktor is thinking when, at night, the man could not sleep and he just simply stares up at the rafters of Yuuri's small room.

 

Viktor may be an airhead from time to time, but he's not stupid. Yuuri knows that Viktor  _too_ knows about the inevitable.

 

Viktor may be smiling and fighting and holding on, but one day, Viktor will have to let go.

 

(Yuuri knows he will have, one day, to let go too)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri wakes up one day and sees Viktor, and his wheelchair, gone.

 

He panics, bolting out of his bed and searching every room. His mind thinks about the inevitable, about the things that Yuuri does not want to think of yet at the moment. He panics and panics and  _panics_ \- that is, until, his mother had assured him that Viktor had asked for some sunshine, so Mari and Minako had offered to take him on a stroll.

 

As Yuuri sighs in relief, she also states that they're waiting for him at the Ice Castle for their practice session. Yuuri quickly eats and dresses up, not wanting to be late. Viktor may be currently a sick fuck, but his sternness as a coach has yet to disappear.

 

However, when Yuuri reaches the skating rink he'd called home, he'd greeted with silence.

 

There was no one at the counter, no one managing or no one watching over the facility. He'd called out for Yuuko but his childhood friend's figure could not be seen nor heard. He'd called for Minako and Mari too, but nobody responded either.

 

So he resorted to enter the ice rink, and is greeted by Viktor's wheelchair sitting innocently by the glass door's entrances.

 

He'd felt the usual panic and the knot in his stomach as his head whips around, looking for a silver haired figure. 

 

And he does, he does find him. He sees Viktor in the middle of the rink, skating.

 

Yuuri's heart seems to stop. Viktor was gliding on the ice, doing these cautious moves that were slow and steady. They were just simple moves, nothing too major nor dangerous. He'd known Viktor was straining, the slight wobble on Viktor's legs were evident enough, and Yuuri knew he should run out there and stop Viktor before he could hurt himself.

 

But he doesn't.

 

He sees Viktor's face, serene and peaceful and quiet. His eyes are shut and concentrated, lost into music that only he could hear. His skin was evidently sweaty and Viktor was pushing himself. His legs were a little shaky and his arms were too stiff, a sign of tiredness. His chest heaves but he keeps on moving. Yuuri worries, until he sees Viktor's smile.

 

The smile wasn't strained and tired that he'd sometimes wore, nor was it bright and cheery like the fighting persona he's known to have. It was a small, angelic twitch in his chapped pale lips. It was a smile that he'd reserved for Yuuri, and it was a smile that he'd reserved for the ice.

 

Viktor drops to the floor. 

 

Yuuri gasps, and  _that's_ where he runs out. He does not think twice, he runs out to the ice with still his shoes on, calling Viktor's name. He does not care. He does not care that he's tripped over three times just to get to Viktor. He'd skidded over and took Viktor's kneeling form, wrapping him in his arms.

 

"VITYA!" He cries out, taking Viktor's face into his palms and shaking him gently. "Are you hurt? Do you-"

 

He's cut off when Viktor's soft laugh echoes throughout the room.

 

Yuuri freezes for a moment, hands still cradling Viktor's face. Viktor's face was scrunched up, laughing with his eyes crinkling. The small giggles escaped his mouth like he was the happiest man in the world, all the while his chest heaved like he was in a marathon. Yuuri felt his thumbs moisten up as the steady stream of tears fell down Viktor's face.

 

"Viktor?" He asks cautiously. "What are you-"

 

"Isn't it ironic?" Viktor's hoarse voice says, a grin still on his face. His continuous panting had made it hard for him to speak, so his words came out like a slur. "On how... On how we love the ice?" Viktor lets out a breathy laugh, before he looks down at his hand, which was tracing little patterns on the moist ground. 

 

Viktor returns his gaze on Yuuri, eyes soft and fond. "I... I mean, it's not  _good_ for us. It's risky and slippery and... and so d-dangerous." Viktor lets out a cough, breath wheezing. Yuuri rubs soothing circles on his back. "One wrong move could kill you. And... And yet..."

 

Viktor laughs, eyes facing the heavens. "And yet we  _love_ it. We love it so... so m-much we dance on it and kiss on it and we worship it." Viktor closes his eyes, taking Yuuri's hand. "We're stupid little animals who... who fall in love with dangerous things. And we love the ice." Viktor sighs, opening his eyes. " _I_ love the ice."

 

Yuuri could barely even swallow. "V-Viktor-"

 

Viktor catches his gaze, lips curling into a sad smile.

 

"It kind of reminds me on my love for you, doesn't it?" Viktor says softly, and Yuuri is lost for words, his hands dropping due to shock.

 

Viktor sighs, and he looks down at his lap, eyebrows furrowing and the tears kept coming. "Damn it." He mutters, and Yuuri's eyes widen.

 

"Viktor-"

 

"I hate this I hate this I hate this." Viktor cries out, the tears staining his shirt as Viktor makes a pathetic move to pound on the cold floor. He looks up at Yuuri, eyes glistening. Yuuri's heart shatters, never seen Viktor this vulnerable before, and he pulls him to his chest.

 

"I-I'm so sorry, Yuuri." Viktor sobs, tears staining Yuuri's chest. Yuuri does not care. "I'm so... so sorry. It's all about me,  _everything's been_ about me.  _I'm_ supposed to be the one taking care of you. What... What kind of lover would I be?" Viktor mumbles, and Yuuri felt his eyes prick with tears, but he just holds him close. Yuuri doesn't need to say anything.

 

Viktor looks up at him, a small smile on his face. "How are you? How's your day? Have you eaten yet? Did you sleep well?" Viktor asks, before promptly burrowing himself deeper into Yuuri's embrace. "I want to know these things about you. I want to ask them to you every day. I want to take care of you." Viktor says, clutching at Yuuri's shirt. "A-And yet... I know I wouldn't be able to." Viktor says softly, 

 

(" _i wouldn't be able to either_ " Yuuri thinks)

 

_-_

 

Viktor insisted he'd watch the Short Program a few days later.

 

Thankfully, the event will be held at Fukuoka, a city near Hasetsu. Hauling Viktor would not be a problem, much to Viktor's delight. 

 

After Yuuri's short program, he'd placed in third and they had to physically restrain Viktor from jumping out of his wheelchair and tackling the boy.

 

Yuuri giggled at this, before bending down at Viktor's pouty face and placing a kiss on his nose.

 

(he did not know that it would be the last event Viktor would ever attend)

 

_-_

 

Viktor will not be able to attend the free skate.

 

He'd known it the moment he'd been woken up by Viktor's high fever. Viktor was so sweltering hot Yuuri felt like he was touching the sun. His family rushed him to the hospital, and Viktor had to growl at Yuuri and order him to attend the Free Skate.

 

"B-But I need to watch over you!" Yuuri says when he follows them to the hospital, against Viktor's wishes.

 

Viktor's gaze has burned through him, eyes dark but tired. "I-I told you to... to stop worrying about me, damn it." Viktor huffs as the nurses wheel him away. "Now go out there and w-win Gold, or I'm kicking your ass."

 

So Yuuri goes to Fukuoka, with Minako as his stand-in coach. Minako didn't need to do much, just add in a little words of inspiration here and there. Minako was good company, he'd say, but no matter what she said it could never stomp out the hurtling anxiety in his stomach. All through the day, he didn't worry about the competition. He worried about  _Viktor,_ and what's happening to him and why was the world cruel and why and why-

 

"Yuuri?" Minako's voice, thankfully, cuts through his thoughts. He's grateful for a little distraction. Minako, looking as determined as ever, stares him down. "You are  _not_ going to spend the last five minutes of warm up moping around. So GET UP AND DO SOME STRETCHES-"

 

Yuuri jumps up at Minako's shriek, and proceeds to do his usual warm ups before every competition. While doing so, Minako hands him a piece of paper.

 

"Vitya wanted me to give this to you." Minako says, passing the paper to Yuuri with dainty fingers. "I didn't look at it, so don't worry."

 

Yuuri opens it, and sees the Bucket List. Most of the items there were already checked and some were crossed out due to being too impossible to reach. However, there was one item that stood out the most.

 

_Marry Yuuri Katsuki after he wins Gold. ✔_

 

(why was it checked? Yuuri didn't know why)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri enters the hospital, feeling the weight of the metal on his chest and the weight of the world on his shoulders.

 

He approaches the sleeping form on the bed, examining Viktor for a moment. Viktor didn't look like he was in pain, nor did he look strained. Viktor looked peaceful. And Yuuri took a moment to admire him. He might never see a peaceful Viktor again.

 

Viktor must've sensed him, because those long lashes fluttered awake. When he sees Yuuri, he smiles.

 

Yuuri removes the Gold Medal around his chest and holds them out in front of Viktor. Viktor, with a shaky hand, takes the round object and inspects it for a moment. 

 

Yuuri yelps when Viktor tosses it away, and hold his hands out weakly for a hug.

 

(it takes some time to pull them away)

 

_-_

 

"I'm getting better, I sWEAR!" Viktor says, hands up in mock submission. Yurio glares at him from the phone camera, eyes as bright green as ever. Yuuri chuckles. 

 

"Don't make me come over there and smack you personally, old man." Yurio huffs, voice still slightly distorted from the video call. "You're gonna get better, or  _I'll make you regret it for the rest of you life-"_

 

"That's not very long, is it." Viktor mumbles, he thinks Yuuri did not hear. He flashes a smile at the phone. "If you can, come by here again! Me and Yuuri miss you-"

 

"And just to what, endure you PDA?" Yurio rolls his eyes. The two merely chuckle. Yurio looks at something the camera does not show, and he screams something in Russian. "Got to go, Yakov's yelling at me again- YEAH, YEAH, I GET IT OLD MAN, CALM DOWN." The line cuts short.

 

("he could be our adopted son that we love" "a rebellious adopted son?" "a rebellious adopted son  _that we love_.")

 

_-_

 

"I am not accepting this." Viktor mumbles against Yuuri's back, pouting.

 

Yuuri chuckles as Makkachin toddles forwards, ahead of them. "You're like a girl."

 

"Y-Yeah, but a pretty one with big boobs and nice hips, not a bag of bones." Viktor huffs as he rests his head on Yuuri's shoulder. "What floor is it now?"

 

"Almost there." Yuuri huffs, hiking Viktor's legs higher. Who would've guessed how physically  _light_ Viktor is now? Yuuri is currently carrying him up to the rooftop with ease. Viktor was not so fond of being frail.

 

Yuuri kicks the hospital door's open, and out they step into the darkness. They were immediately greeted by cold, so Viktor helps Yuuri set up the blankets they have brought alongside with the basket of food. Makakchin was yipping excitedly, catching the snowflakes on his tongue. Yuuri sets Viktor down gently, swaddling him and the dog with blankets as the small flecks of snow land on their heads.

 

Yuuri hated the cold. Hated the way it made his toes hurt and his teeth chatter. However, the moment Viktor had asked if he could visit the rooftop, Yuuri wouldn never be able to say no.

 

"Warm?" Yuuri asks, and Viktor nods. Yuuri takes a strawberry from the basket, and feeds it to the silver haired man.

 

"I think there's... there's a perk to this." Viktor grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "My Fiance gets to hand feed me, which is _awesome_."

 

"Oh yeah, wait for me to hand feed you in a _public place._ " Viktor laughs, and Yuuri grins. They both stay silent for a while, Yuuri occasionally feeding them with a pastry or two. They just stare out on the horizon, watching the sunset and the bright lights as the day melted with the night, with Makkachin quietly curled up between them.

 

"Do you regret it?"

 

Viktor's voice has jumped Yuuri out of his quiet reverie. "Huh?"

 

"Do you regret it?" Viktor says, eyes still watching intently on the fading sun. "Do you regret ever loving me?"

 

Yuuri nearly sputters out at how ridiculous Viktor's question is. "O-Of course I don't! Vitya, don't-"

 

"Because I'm sorry." Viktor says, eyes on Yuuri now, but a smile on his face with tears in his heart. "I'm s-sorry I had you go... go through this. You could've lived a p-perfect life out there with someone else, not with some ancient who... who burdens everyone-"

 

Yuuri shoves a small pastry into Viktor's mouth to keep him from talking. "First of all, stop talking because you're obviously having a hard time. Second,  _no."_

 

Yuuri takes Viktor's face and squeezed his cheeks, which were still full of pastry.

 

"Listen here, Nikiforov. You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you. Stop acting like an angsty bitch, because I would rather spend a short lifetime with you than anyone else, you hear me?" He says, a small teasing smile on his lips. "You think I would've sacrificed myself to  _freeze_ to death in a hospital rooftop for someone I regret being with? No."

 

Yuuri stays silent, hand still cupping Viktor's cheek. Viktor chuckles, and removes his hand, cradling it gently, the golden of their rings a beautiful contrast to Viktor's pale white skin.

 

"My, my, Mr. Katsuki. You are full... full of surprises." Viktor wheezes, voice hoarse. He places a dainty kiss on his knuckles. "Tomorrow, I-I am going to marry you, whether... whether be guests, a priest, formalities. And  _since_ , you just said we're stuck together, there's no backing out, alright?" Viktor says, eyebrows raised and a smirk on his chapped lips.

 

"It's a deal then." Yuuri says, grin bright and eyes shining with these happy, little tears. Yuuri strokes Viktor's hollow cheek, smiling when Viktor sighs and leans against his touch. The world was beautiful.  _They_ were beautiful. And for once, Yuuri stopped worrying and, even just for a little moment, he let himself drown in their own little world, where there was no leukemia and no pain and it was just him and Viktor, on their own little rooftop.

 

"Happy Birthday, Viktor." Yuuri says, smiling. "You're gonna hold on to your promise, okay?"

 

(sadly, he doesn't)

 

_-_

 

The next day, Viktor would not wake up.

 

He was alive, he was breathing, but he could not wake up.

 

The doctors are in a frenzy, checking heart rates and blood cells and his blood pressure and all of the medical paraphernalia Yuuri could not understand, but judging from their looks, he knew it wasn't good. The whole family was rushed out of the room and were ordered to wait for any further news.

 

"His organs are failing." A doctor says remorsefully, hands in her coat pockets. "And unfortunately, we could not stop it."

 

Hiroko had gasped, before burrowing herself deep into her husband's embrace. Mari looked genuinely sad, and Minako growled in frustration. However, they were all training their expectant eyes on Yuuri, looking at his reaction.

 

Yuuri has a face that was far too unreadable.

 

"C-Can..." Yuuri mutters, hands trembling. "Can I see him?" As soon as the doctor gives out her curt nod, Yuuri slowly walks in the room.

 

Viktor was now nothing but bones with pale white skin stretching over him like whipcord. His cheeks are hollowed out, making his cheekbones look as sharp as ever. His eyes were sunken in and the arches of his forehead were deepened. His once glorious hair was nor plastered to his face in flat strands. Viktor's breaths were elaborate and calculated and  _forced_ by the machines next to him.

 

Yuuri is still in love.

 

"Viktor..." Yuuri mumbles, feeling the tears start to form in his eyes as he makes his way over to the bed. "Oh, darling..."

 

He takes his cold, IV attached, hand, almost weighing next to nothing. He caresses it with his thumb using smooth circles, what Viktor would usually do whenever Yuuri is anxious. "Can you hear me?" He squeaks, voice cracking.

 

The heart rate monitor stays up high, presenting the erratic heartbeats Viktor has. Yuuri knows Viktor's heartbeats. He would listen to it hours and hours every night, when he'd rest his head on Viktor's chest and get lulled to sleep by his favorite lullaby.

 

"Hi, it's me." Yuuri says, lip trembling. He catches note of the large monitor above once more, and he swallows.

 

"Why are you still fighting, damn it?" He whispers, eyes glaring at the prone form. "You're tired, I get it. You need to stop working so hard, Vitya." Yuuri whispers, tears already leaking out. "Remember... You always used to tell me; 'let's call it a day, no?'" He smiles fondly. "You get tired easily, I understand Viktor."

 

Yuuri drops Viktor's hand, and runs his hand through his hair. "Call it a day, Viktor. You need to rest." Yuuri sobs, muttering anything he could think of as he felt his heart start to slowly break of, piece by piece. "You don't need to worry about me, you... you don't need to worry about our wedding. I don't need a fancy wedding with priests and ivory and all the things we planned. It's okay. I love you, you idiot."

 

He places his hand on Viktor's chest, feeling the machine generated rise and fall of his heart, and every breath Viktor took was raspy and forced. Tired. "It's okay. Vitya, can you hear me? You can rest. It's okay. Even if you don't hold on to your promise, it's okay. I love you, okay? Can you hear me? I understand."

 

Yuuri lays himself down, and he cries as he rests his head on Viktor's chest. He wraps his arms loosely around the man's middle as he tries to call out to his favorite lullaby.

 

( _i understand_ )

 

_-_

 

Why was it sunny?

 

Yuuri squints, eyes being seared by the light. It was early January, the air was cold but the sun was hot. He was warm and freezing at the same time. The clouds loomed over head but the sun continued to peek out nonetheless. He was confused at the weather and he was confused about  _everything_.

 

But deep inside, he knew what he was thinking was stupid. He knew the stupid imaginary conversation he has in his mind about the weather was just him trying to pathetically distract himself.

 

It was sad.

 

Seriously though, if only it could've been cold and winter-y, he'd be dressed in a fluffy jacket and some warm boots, not some stupid suit and tight tie.

 

Yuuri walks over to the casket, shoving his trembling his hands into the pockets. The grass crunched under his feet as people made way for him, their eyes showing sympathy and remorse. Yuuri tried not to notice them.

 

There, he sees his body. Yuuri tried and tried not to look away, but he smiles when he sees Viktor's peaceful face.

 

He'd thought he'd never see Viktor peaceful anymore. It has been a small consolation, even in these times, to see Viktor finally rest.

 

"Um, excuse me?" A voice says, and he turns to see the pastor, the one who inducted the burial ceremony, approach him. "May I ask, who are you to the currently deceased?" The pastor asks kindly, gesturing to the casket.

 

Yuuri smiles.

 

"I'm his husband."

 

(the look on his face was worth it)

 

_-_

 

He finally breaks down when he reaches the Ice Castle.

 

He'd not cried when they announced his death, with approximate time and other things. He'd not cried when his mother suited him up for the funeral. He'd not cried when they placed Viktor's body underneath one of Hasetsu's several cemeteries. He'd had a stony face, void of emotion, occasionally smiling to guests who had offered their condolences.

 

However, the moment he'd stepped foot on the ice, it all came crashing down.

 

He'd barely made it a few meters away from the entrance of the rink before his body gives out. Wave after wave of sorrow and guilt and  _oh my god Viktor's dead he's dead he's dead-_ Yuuko did not say a word, just merely nodding at him solemnly whilst she hands him his skates. Yuuri kept his stony exterior, until his blades met contact with the ice.

 

Memory after memory came hurtling after him. Times with Viktor, laughs with Viktor, skating with Viktor, everything with Viktor. He'd curled up on the cold floor, letting his tears fall and his sobs escape his mouth and the pain to seep into his bones.

 

He'd read about it in books and watched about it on movies. Someone you love dies and it shows multiple depressing cut scenes which either makes the viewer roll their eyes or sob. He'd always guessed it hurt, but he didn't know it hurt  _so much._ it was a suffocating feeling, like it was God's way of saying  _now can you see? How unfair life is?_

 

And it was. It was unfair.

 

And so he stays there, eyes moist and heart hurting. The window's outside showed that it was already nighttime, and Yuuri entered the rink early noon, and his stomach growled, but he did not care. This rink had the last remnants of Viktor in it, if he tried hard enough, he could make out Viktor  _right_ in the middle of the rink, ready to skate.

 

He jumps when he hears the  _clack_ of skates meeting ice as he feels a presence behind him. He turns around weakly, expecting a silver haired man.

 

Except he's greeted by rouge, green eyes.

 

"Y-Yurio..." He mutters, a little shocked at first, but his depression quickly overran it. "Hey..."

 

He shrieks when Yurio kicks at his side, not too hard or anything, but enough to shock Yuuri into scuffling away.

 

"What are you doing here, whining like a little crybaby, huh?" Yurio spats, eyes narrowing. "Your family is worried sick about you-"

 

"I don't wanna talk yet." Yuuri mutters, laying back down on the ice.

 

Yurio rolls his eyes, and scoffs. "I don't care. Get up, you're acting like a teenager."

 

"Well, yeah. I just lost the  _love of my life_ , sorry for acting too  _teenager-y_ for you." Yuuri spits, his gaze turning into a glare. He sighs, gaze softening into pain. "You don't know what it feels...." Yuuri gasps a little when he feels the familiar knot in his chest form. "... To lose someone you love."

 

Yuuri feels some sort of satisfaction when Yurio stays silent.

 

"Actually, I do." Yurio spats out quickly, mumbling out the end. "And i know it hurts and I know that moping around isn't going to help you, you FATSO!" 

 

Yurio skates over and shakes the raven haired man by the shoulders vigorously. 

 

"And now you're either going to get locked up here and DIE OF STARVATION OR YOU WILL COME BACK HOME AND TAKE A SHOWER, BECAUSE YOU SMELL LIKE SHIT."

 

(that's when Yuuri agrees that, yes, Yurio might as well be their adopted rebellious don that they loved)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri smiles fondly as he follows Makkachin up the grassy hill, trying hard to avoid any tombstones he may trip over. The old dog yips and barks, pausing every minute or so to sniff at something he sees.

 

When they reach Viktor's grave, Makkachin stares at it curiously.

 

Makkachin had noticed Viktor's absence the moment he died, and the dog has been in a constant state of 'where's vitya is he out is he gone why is he gone where's vitya-"

 

The dog glances at the grave, and back up at Yuuri, looking at him questionably like 'is this vitya where's vitya i miss vitya-"

 

Yuuri's heart stops when Makkachin curls up against the newly made tombstone. He smiles as he takes out the piece of paper in his pocket.

 

"Hi there love, did you miss me?" He says softly, sitting down in front of the tomb. "I hope you did, because we miss you. Horribly."

 

Yuuri sighs, and faces the clouds overhead. The chilly wind made him shudder, but he does not mind.

 

"So, I forgot to read this out to you when we sat on the rooftop back then, so I prompted to read it you when we get married. As you can see... we never did." He chuckles softly, feeling the familiar knot in his stomach coil. But he does not want to cry. Not here. Not in front of Viktor.

 

He smooths out the crumpled paper, the words he'd written on there were written behind the Bucket List, every item accounted for. He clears his throat, and begins.

 

"Viktor Nikiforov, you are my personal doom. You are the reason why my hair is starting to go gray due to stress and you are the reason of my slowly increasing anxiety. Screw you for that." Yuuri chuckles. "Aw, don't feel bad. You are also the reason of these love marks and warm touches and scars on me that I wouldn't want to disappear ever."

 

"Salute to you, Nikiforov. You are the reason why I smile and laugh and fight, if i were in your position I would've given up up long ago, knowing that it couldn't be stopped. But your airheadness has some perks, you know?" He smiles fondly. "You believed and dreamed and fought. You fought for your skating and against your disease and you fought for  _me."_

 

"So thank you for fighting for me. Thank you for your love and your beauty. Thank you for your smile and your laugh, and the  _sex_." Yuuri giggles, Makkachin makes this exasperated whine.

 

"And don't worry. I'm tired of worrying. You don't have to worry about me, I'll be okay."

 

Yuuri sighs, and throws the paper away. There were lots of stupid things on there, but Yuuri doesn't want to trudge through it all.

 

"I'll be okay." 

 

He smiles, staring at the cursive engraving on the brand new stone. 

 

_till death do us part_

 

Yuuri lays down and lays up next to to Makkachin, the three of them snuggling together for the last time.

 

(and later when it snows, Yuuri doesn't move. He may have hated the cold, but for now, he didn't)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: the italicized paragraphs are flashbacks
> 
> another note: if you guys want to, it would be preferable if ya'll listen to the following songs whilst reading :3
> 
> -memories (shawn mendes)  
> -the one that got away (katy perry)  
> -say something (pentatonix cover)  
> -can't help falling in love with you (haley reinhart version)
> 
> enjoy <3

 

_A handsome, charming playboy comes to town. The women fall for him, left and right. He decides to pursue the most beautiful of them all, but she turns him away. Undeterred, the man continues his pursuit with gifts and flattery, until finally she gives in. But, having got what he wanted, the man loses interest, and moves on to the next town._

 

_-_

 

 

Katsuki Yuuri is alright.

 

He got up at the sound of his alarm clock, made coffee and breakfast, woke up his adorable six year old daughter for school, and they both read the funny pages in his newspaper in the midst of eating. You could've mistaken the scene for a normal, everyday leisure of a picture perfect home. It was quiet and mundane, and it was alright.

 

Katsuki Yuuri is alright.

 

"Papa, one of my classmates said that my name was funny." Vania says, round cheeks filled with cereal and cheek dripping with milk. "They said it was too boyish for me."

 

Yuuri chuckles, taking a napkin and dabbing away the milk on his daughter's cheeks. "Who told you so? Don't you like your name?"

 

Vania shakes her head, brown pony tail swishing behind her. "'Vania' makes me sound like a fairy princess, but they said 'Katsuki' makes me sound like a warrior knight."

 

"Well, isn't that cooler?" Yuuri says fondly, readjusting his glasses on his face. Honestly, they were getting a little crooked. Should he look for a new pair? "You'll be a fairy princess warrior knight, and you can slay all the people who steals kid's ice creams." Yuuri winks, and the little girl giggles. Yuuri smiles as he, once again, wipes away the milk that starts to dribble its way down her chin.

 

"One of my classmates said that they know you." Vania says, shoving another spoonful into her mouth. Yuuri raises an eyebrow at the statement as he opens up his phone, scrolling through the latest feed. "Oh really?"

 

Vania nods. "Carrie says that you were famous, and that her parents were fans of yours." She chews. This catches his attention, and Yuuri breaks his gaze from his phone as he stares at her. "Is it true? And papa, since when did you have fans?"

 

Yuuri blinks for a moment, gaze flitting between the little girl across from him and to his food. He was suddenly filled with some sort of panic, it's not really that much of a _big_ panic, but it was panic nonetheless. He swallows, and breathes out a little laugh. "Me? Famous? They might be talking about a different Katsuki, sweetheart." Yuuri says, taking his spoon as he sloshes the oatmeal around in his bowl in an attempt to distract himself. "Besides, I  _do_ have fans, right? I have you, for instance."

 

Vania nods eagerly. "Of course! No one can dance as good as  _you_ , papa!"

 

Yuuri chuckles, reaching over to tuck away the stray strands of brown hair behind her ear. He latches unto those beautiful baby blue eyes, sparkling with so much life and happiness and innocence the world has ever had.

 

(and for a moment, he mistakes Vania for someone else)

 

_-_

 

_"Viktor, stop snatching food from the pan, It's not yet done yet dammit-"_

 

_"But I'm huuuunggry-"_

 

 _"I'll make you even_ more  _hungrier if you don't fucking stop eating- Vitya, that pork may still be raw."_

 

_"Shit."_

 

_-_

 

"Uncle Yurio!" Yuuri chuckles at the shocked expression on the blond's face as the overly enthusiastic six year old wraps her chubby little arms around the thin frame. The Russian sputters for a bit, albeit not really used to sudden physical contact, before he tentatively hugs back the little girl.

 

"Yeah, yeah, kid. I missed you too." Yurio grunts, but he adds the last part a little more fondly. "You've gotten chubby, is the pig overfeeding you again?"

 

"I can't help myself, he makes tasty Katsudon bowls." The toddler says, smiling her gap-toothed grin, and Yuuri walks over with a fond smile on his face.

 

"And if you want, you can come over and have some with us?" Yuuri says, eyebrows raised. It has been a long time since he's seen the figure skater, and so much has changed. In six years, Yuri Plisetsky has turned into a twenty one year old man with a bite still as sharp and deadly as the fifteen year old still buried beneath him. 

 

Yurio scoffs, but he nods. "I didn't want to stay in a crappy Detroit hotel anyways." Yuuri smiles, and the trio start to walk out of the airport, with Vania skipping happily in front of the two and Yurio lugging his luggage behind him.

 

"Are you sure Yakov won't mind?" Yuuri asks, nodding at the old man who was currently talking with some executive. He's happy that the man is still around, no matter how old he is. He's happy that the numerous skater's he'd skated with before were still around, except for the few who retired, such as himself.

 

"He'll be fine, probably happy that he doesn't have to babysit me anymore." Yuri scowls as they navigate through the busy airport. "Can you guys watch the short program on Monday?" Yurio asks in a small, quiet voice, as if trying to not let the little girl in front of them hear.

 

Yuuri exhales through his nose as he starts to call up a cab from his phone, being hit by the question he tries to often deny, no matter what he does. "Vania has afternoon classes on that day, but I will. I promise."

 

"Good." Yurio huffs, shoving his hands in his leopard printed jacket. "I'm going to beat the fuck out of JJ, and I want thousands of people to see."

 

Yuuri laughs and they wait outside the terminal for their cab, the snowflakes biting at their skin a little. In the small little snippets of time they spent together, the competence in Yurio has never changed. "I can't believe he's still going at it."

 

"Oh, believe me. He still is." Yurio says. "But I'll beat him, I'm sure."

 

"You've done so countless times, I'm sure you'll manage, Yurio."

 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Yurio sighs, and smiles a little at the little girl who was bouncing around happily on the pavement. However, his smile falters, finally noticing the small bit of tension in the air. Yurio is not stupid, impulsive and a bit of an airhead, maybe, but not stupid. He knows what's happening, and Yurio isn't sure what to do about it.

 

"You haven't told her yet, have you?" Yurio murmurs, breath coming out like a puff of clouds that start to drift to the sky. 

 

Yuuri does not answer.

 

(he's surprised that Yurio doesn't say anything either, after that)

 

_-_

 

_"You sure you're able to carry me?"_

 

_"Of course, love." Viktor winks, hands on his hips. "Plus, we'd look super cute."_

 

_"Vitya, it's just a pair skate."_

 

 _Viktor places both hands over his heart and he gasps in mock hurt. "_ _What do you mean_ 'just  _a pair_ _skate_ ' _? My sweet Katsudon, it's so much more than that."_

 

_-_

 

He fulfills his promise, and attends the Short Program that Monday.

 

The moment he stepped into the venue, however, he is immediately struck low.

 

These are the places Yuuri has gone to, places that Yuuri knows so well. He knew about the hustle and bustle of the press and their eagerness for news. He knew about the programs and where to go and where the locker rooms are. He knew what the red carpets feel under his feet. He knew about the secret entryways skaters would use in order to avoid the public and media affairs. 

 

He knew about those things as a skater.

 

But now, he's just another spectator.

 

He watches in silence, medical mask high atop his nose and beanie covering his messy dark hair. He's actually thankful for the cold this time, because he's able to wear multiple layers of bulky clothing in order to hide himself. He sits. He stands. He cheers. He claps. He watches Yurio's performance, alongside the other performances that were too much of a blur to him to notice.

 

After that, he texts Yurio a congratulations and that he has to pick up Vania, so he has to leave early.

 

(not even bothering to see if he replied, Yuuri dashes out of the event with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the memory of the ice under his feet)

 

_-_

 

 _"Wow, I can't believe people wrote_ fanfiction  _about us."_

 

_Yuuri purses his lips as he leans over to see Viktor's phone more clearly. "It's kinda cute, actually."_

 

_Viktor nods, and he starts scrolling. "Damn, there's a lot." Viktor says, still scrolling. "Although, there's not much 'Explicit' rated fics," He sends a knowing glance at Yuuri, who bites his lip as he grins._

 

_"Do you wanna make some?"_

 

_"Fuck yeah."_

 

__-__

 

Yuuri sighs fondly as he leans against the steel bars of the studio, watching the little kids leap and twirl around the room. Some giggled as they bumped into each other, some had determined looks on their faces, and some had both. Vania, for example, who was trying to go _Arabesque_ while trying not to fall on her face.

 

Being a dance instructor was a cut, Yuuri had to admit. He figured it would be a good side thing, next to his steady job in an office executive. He loves his job, he loves the kids, he loves the dancing. Minako would look at him now and gush about how proud she was. He was contented on teaching the little kids how to twirl around like he used to. 

 

"Oh, they're just so  _adorable!_ " Phichit squeals as he takes a video for Instagram. Phichit took some time off from practice to hang out with Yuuri, which Yuuri was thankful for, because he felt like he rarely sees the Thai skater anymore "You know, come to think of it, multiple prima ballerinas once started out like this, and it kinda amazes me."

 

Yuuri chuckles, drinking from his water bottle. "It's ironic, but cute."

 

"Yeah, and Vania will probably become one, too! I mean, I could see talent in her." Phichit says, nodding at the six year old who can now balance herself on one foot with the other parallel to the ground. "She's flexible, and she could balance herself well! If she were a figure skater though, man, she'd be a legend!"

 

(Phichit doesn't notice the way Yuuri's mouth goes dry)

 

_-_

 

_Yuuri laughs at Viktor's expression._

 

_Viktor scowls as he sneezes into another Kleenex. "If only I wasn't sick I'd go over there and tackle you-"_

 

_"Kinky." Yuuri winks, and Viktor pouts._

 

_"Yuuuuuri, please, I wanna kiss you."_

 

_"Ah ah, you're sick and it's disgusting."_

 

_Viktor frowns. "You're the devil incarnate."_

 

 _"And yet just_ who  _decided to marry said devil incarnate?"_

 

_-_

 

"Papa, I wanna learn how to skate!"

 

That sentence was the first thing Yuuri hears once he picks up Vania from school. That sentence was also the reason why Yuuri had accidentally dropped his bags on the street. That sentence was also a sentence that Yuuri had dreaded for many years to come.

 

Yuuri blinks at the little girl, glasses slightly askew and brown eyes as wide as ever. "W-What-"

 

"Carrie showed me a video on her phone, and it was you!" Vania smiles, showing her gap tooth. The first thing that Yuuri thinks is who is this fucking Carrie girl and why does she have a phone at the age of six, and the second thing that Yuuri thinks is  _holy fuck my daughter now knows that I was once a renowned figure skater fuck fuck fuck-_

 

"I saw you dancing on the ice, Papa. And you were so amazing! Lots of people were cheering for you, and you were just so cool!" Vania gushes, and Yuuri's cheeks become a little red at the endless praise his daughter is spewing out. "I figured, I wanna do what you did Papa! Although, why didn't you tell me you could skate?"

 

Yuuri's mouth drops, jaw on the floor. His mouth runs dry, and he wants to  _say_ something but the words would not escape from his mouth.

 

"The ending was a little weird." Vania continues, pursing her lips as she starts to skip, watching her shadow dance beneath her feet. "After you stopped skating, you ran to some white haired man and he _kissed_ you, Papa! The other kids that were watching were like, ' _yuck'_! But honestly, I found it sweet!" She grins. "Who was he, Papa? Is he your _boyfriend_ , or-" 

 

She stops when she turns back and realizes that Yuuri had stopped moving, frozen in place far behind her with her bag clutched tightly in his hand. Behind his glasses, Vania could see those usually warm eyes filled with an emotion that was far too unreadable.

 

Pouting, she skips back to the frozen man. "Papa? Are you alright? Was it something I said-"

 

She jumps a little when Yuuri suddenly crouches in front of her, and gently clasps his hands around her shoulders. "Do you _really_  want to learn how to skate?" Yuuri manages to croak out, voice slightly strained as his mind pounds. It wasn't a migraine, but it was annoying enough to make him want to bang his head against the nearest wall.

 

Vania swallows, and nods eagerly, gap-toothed grin evident. 

 

Yuuri stares at her for a moment, stormy brown eyes locking with bright blue orbs. 

 

Finally, Yuuri sighs and affectionately ruffles Vania's already messy hair, and they both head home. Yuuri figured Vania would eventually find out. While he'll tell her everything, teach her how to ice skate, there are  _some_ things that ached too much for him to share to her. Not now, yes, but one day. For now, he'll try to tell her everything she wants to know.

 

(however, he does not tell her about the weird silver haired man who kissed him in front of international T.V)

 

_-_

 

 _"Was that_ really  _necessary?"_

 

 _"Well, what can I say? I just_ love  _surprising everyone-"_

 

_Yuuri raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms over his chest."You just kissed me in front of millions of people."_

 

_"And so? It's my official statement." Viktor winks. "That kiss was supposed to mean 'This is my katsudon. Do not touch'"_

 

_-_

 

They go to a skating rink by the outskirts of Detroit. Yuuri kind of felt bad at not feeling as ecstatic as Vania, who was bouncing excitedly in her seat for the majority of the ride. Don't get him wrong, Yuuri didn't hate it... It's just that...

 

Yuuri sighs, waiting for the light to turn green. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further.

 

It's just that he hasn't stepped foot in a rink... In  _years_ , God knows how long it has been. He could've lost all the jist he had back when he was younger, when he was more experienced. Maybe he'd forgotten skating altogether. Maybe he doesn't even know how to even  _stand_ on the ice properly-

 

He nearly floors the pedal when Vania squeals excitedly, pointing at the large skating rink they were passing by. "YAY! WE'RE HERE WE'RE HERE WE'RE HERE-"

 

Yuuri chuckles, and he prepares to park. Once they both step out of the vehicle, Yuuri could barely run after the overly excited toddler as Vania makes a beeline for the entrance. The guide there had offered to help them with their skates and maybe even teach them how to skate, but once he had seen Yuuri's face, the kind man's jaw had immediately dropped. 

 

"It's okay, I'll take care of her." He smiles, and the man could barely nod.

 

"O-Of course, Mr. Katsuki!" The man sputters out, and Yuuri is a bit surprised that people still know him. "Whatever you need!"

 

Yuuri nods, and they both head over to the counter and try to find out Vania's shoe size.

 

"Wow, you really  _are_ famous, Papa!"  Vania beams proudly as Yuuri teaches her how to properly tie up the skates.

 

"Yeah, well, I beat a long time Free Skate record, so that's that." Yuuri says, supposedly trying to make the sentence light hearted. However, once the sentence escapes his mouth and is immediately replaced by a memory, his smile falters as multiple memories flash through his head. A silver medal. Deafening screams. A Quadruple Flip.

 

"You beat a what?" Vania cocks her head to the side, staring at him curiously. "Wha-"

 

"Nothing, dear." Yuuri clears his throat as he stands up and offers his hand. Vania wraps her little chubby hand around his, and she giggles a bit when she wobbles on the skates. 

 

They walk over to the edge of the rink, and Yuuri immediately stops.

 

"Papa?" Vania asks, shaking his hand a little. "What's wrong?"

 

He stares at the little barrier, the immediate transition of padded floor to cold, hard ice. The rink was newly cleaned, with a thin layer of fog emanating from it. There were barely any people, except for a family and some couples. Yuuri wills his feet to move, to finally make his blades reconcile with the ice for the first time in years. His heart shouts for the cold, his mind screams at him to move.

 

But he could not move.

 

He guessed he could've stayed there forever, if only Vania hadn't nudged him back into reality.

 

Yuuri sighs, takes a deep breath, and slides out.

 

It was glorious and agonizing. He felt it all at once; The wonderful feeling of your skates biting into the soles of his feet, the damp cold of the rink, the satisfying sound of the blades hitting against the ice. He felt his heart singing, missing this feeling of carelessness and flight. It was wonderful. It was amazing. It was... It was...

 

It was so painful.

 

"Papa, hey!" He gasps a bit, clutching at his heart as the pain and past memories start to will itself away. He nearly face palms when he sees his six year old daughter, pouting at the edge of the rink. "You forgot about me!"

 

Yuuri chuckles, and skates back into the edge. "Sorry, sweetheart. Here," He holds out both of his hands, and he pulls her to the ice.

 

He laughs when she wobbles, clutching at him helplessly as she scrambles to get upright using the outer part of her blades. He pulls her upright, and teaches her how to glide. Soon, his little princess is gliding around without a care, only managing to stumble a bit from time to time. But it was alright, because Yuuri was there to always catch her, always keep her safe.

 

The minute Vania asks him to do a 'trick', he wasn't sure if he could refuse.

 

" _Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaase_?" She pouts, using her trademark puppy dog look on him, and Yuuri tries his best to not fall under the spell, but  _damn_.

 

So he does. It was a simple toe loop, followed by a spin. The moment he's done, he sees tears in Vania's eyes.

 

"I wanna be a skater!" She announces, hugging him tightly. "I wanna do beautiful jumps and spins, just like what you did!"

 

So they skate for the majority of the day, with Yuuri teaching her basic practices. He sees the potential in her tiny form. When she asks him to do _one_ more trick, he does not refuse. He figures... There was no use in torturing himself anymore. If he wanted to skate, then he will do what he wills. His heart was part of the ice...

 

(and if Vania wants her heart to be part of the ice too, then how could he say no?)

 

_-_

 

_"I've always wanted to be a father, you know?"_

 

_Yuuri jumps a bit, focus averting to Viktor's sudden confession. He rearranges his glasses and folds up the corner of the current page he's reading in his book. "Oh?"_

 

_Viktor nods, smiling a little as he stares out the window, a wistful look on his pale face. "I love kids, they're so small and chubby." Viktor sighs, eyes tracing the scenery outside. "Caring for one is hard, so it sort of takes guts, you know? I mean, if you managed to raise a strong and wise child, it's kind of like the ultimate honor."_

 

_Yuuri merely stares, wondering where Viktor has been getting all this. Viktor's gaze snaps to Yuuri, and he smiles. "What about you, little katsudon? Ever thought about having children?"_

 

_"Vitya, we're both men."_

 

_"I know, there's this thing called 'adoption', you silly."_

 

_Yuuri chuckles, and sets his book down. "Fine, I may have." Yuuri says, looking out the window himself. "I'd see kids regularly back at the Ice Castle and in Minako's studio. I'd teach them what I know... And seeing them laugh and dance around, I thought it would be nice if I had one of my own?"_

 

_Viktor smiles, pulling Yuuri closer to his chest. They both close their eyes for a moment, relishing in the presence of the other._

 

_"One day," Viktor breathes into Yuuri's hair, tickling his scalp. "We're gonna adopt kids, and they'd be ours... Ours for us to love and to teach, and ours for us to take care of. Sound good?"_

 

_Yuuri grins, feeling his heart flutter at the promises of tomorrow, so sweet and so beautiful. He nods into Viktor's chest, and places a kiss over his heartbeat._

 

_-_

 

_**ding dong...** _

 

What the fuck was that noise?

 

**_ding dong..._ **

 

Yuuri groans as he rolls to the other side of his bed and looks at his phone.

 

6:34

 

**_ding dong..._ **

 

Who the fuck was ringing their doorbell at 6 fucking 34 in the morning?

 

**_ding dong..._ **

 

Yuuri grunts as he clambers off the bed and grabs a nearby t shirt. He heads for the door as he tries to pull the shirt over his half naked frame. 

 

He opens the door, expecting some sort of prankster or someone with an offer. He was ready to warn off any sort of unwelcome business, until he sees who was on the other side of the door.

 

There were three people, one man with a suit and tie and a briefcase, and a couple with stony faces and Sunday clothing.

 

"Are you Mr. Katsuki?" The man with a suit and tie says, voice monotone and bland.

 

Yuuri could barely nod.

 

"May we come inside? We would like to have a word with you."

 

_-_

 

_Yuuri was on a boat that was ready to topple over, but it never crashed._

 

_Another sob escapes Yuuri's mouth, and he bites his hand to keep himself from crying like the little bitch he was. He was on a boat, and wave after wave crashed itself upon his deck and with every wave Yuuri felt like he could drown, except he did not drown. He was left on the boat, suffocating but never dying._

 

_He'd left Hasetsu, fled his home town and never looked back, only managing to find himself somewhere in Detroit. He'd asked Phichit if their apartment was still usable, and Phichit let him stay while he's back on Thailand. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear the pain. He was too weak... Too weak._

 

 _Yuuri clutches at one of Viktor's shirts, blue and white striped. He used to steal Viktor's shirts often, much to Viktor's unprecedented delight. The fabric still smelled like Viktor,_ so much...

 

_He has been sitting on the floor for the past thirty minutes now, alternating between sobbing and crying or just cradling Viktor's shirt. Yes, he knew he looked and sounded pathetic, but he couldn't bring himself to actually care. The love of his life was gone, and there was nothing he could do. could you blame him? He thought visiting Viktor's grave would bring him at peace, give him closure._

 

_He was so wrong._

 

_He jumped at the sound of the door knocking, a quick erratic flurry of pounds on the worn wood. Yuuri groaned, wiping away the tears and disgusting snot. He knew he probably looked very, very, shitty. But he does not care. Whoever wanted to see him now, they'd just have to endure a very disheveled Katsuki Yuuri in the midst of another sobfest._

 

_Except, when he opens the door, nobody is there._

 

 _His eyebrows furrow as he peers down the hallways, looking for any sort of pranksters or douchebag kids that just so happened to make him their target. He was about to groan and close the door, when a soft whine interrupts him._ _He looks around, hearing a high pitched whimper reach his ears, soft and animal like._

 

_He looks down, and sees a small bundle by his feet._

 

 _He gasps, seeing the bundle move. He realizes that,_ yes _, it was a human baby swaddled in cloth. The baby was so young, so small, so fragile, Yuuri knew he could crush it under his feet, which was a horrifying thought. Yuuri glanced around, and seeing nothing but empty hallways once more. The baby starts to cry, soft cries of protest escaping the small, toothless mouth._

 

_He tentatively picks up the baby, shushing it quietly. He felt a little obscure and hesitant, not sure in what he would do. Many questions were flooding at his mind, many possibilities and protests were all being thrown at him all at once. But once again, he can't bring himself to care._

 

_"Shh... I got you." He whispers, loosening the swaddle so the baby could breath a little better. The baby had soft hairs coiling around her neck, soft pale skin, and no parents to be found._

 

_The baby's eyes open, and Yuuri sees a shade of blue that he's only seen once in his life._

 

_"I got you."_

 

_-_

 

Vania's real parents were back, and they want custody over the child.

 

"You've got to be kidding me." Yuuri breathes out, looking at the trio in exasperation and shock. He could feel the panic, anxiety, _dread_ , start to pool in his stomach, in his mind, in his _heart._ " _Tell_ me you're kidding."

 

"Unfortunately, Mr. Katsuki, we're not 'kidding', as you say." The lawyer says, opening up the brief case, sliding several documents to Yuuri's already trembling hands. "Mr. and Mrs. Fernandez has requested to match DNA tests with the child, and they have been proven to be the legal guardians."

 

Yuuri's eyes scan over the documents, not really noting the stupid formalities. His eyes dart to the medical records, the lawsuits, the reports. 

 

This can't be happening.

 

"You let a couple of strangers take a DNA match with my little Vania without even telling me?" Yuuri seethes, trying hard to sound polite, but he hisses this through his teeth.

 

"As long as there is no medical tampering, it is completely legal, Mr. Katsuki." The lawyer says patiently. "We were a little concerned that they have decided to suddenly match up with the child out of the blue, and why they were so specific with you, but it is true. They are the biological parents-"

 

"And we want our child back." The woman says, with a permanent scowl on her face.

 

"H-How?!" Yuuri gasps out, setting the documents back on the table. "You... You  _abandoned_ her-"

 

"And we're taking her back."

 

"This isn't even legal!" Yuuri says, eyes wide with exasperation. He could feel the anger and irritation start to boil up in his heart. "I'm no lawyer or anything, but I am  _sure_ that leaving your child on someone's doorstep is considered as abuse and neglect!"

 

"Mr. Katsuki, there is no proven evidence that the latter has chosen to leave their baby under you care." The lawyer sighs, readjusting his glasses. "Mr. and Mrs. Fernandez has been stating their claim that their daughter has been lost, or  _kidnapped_." The lawyer pointedly looks at Yuuri, and Yuuri scoffs.

 

"Are you  _accusing_ me for kidnapping their child?" Yuuri's eyes narrow behind his glasses. "I've found the small helpless baby by my doorstep one night! I would've done anything to her, I could've left her outside or sold her off to some thugs, which I would never do." Yuuri leans back, sighing in annoyance as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

 

"Instead I took her in, and now she's healthy under my care." Yuuri says, eyes flickering to the couple. "We've undergone the legal processing needed for adoption, so you can't take her away from me-"

 

"Actually, the process is much more deeper than that, Mr. Katsuki." The man takes out a few more papers from the briefcase, and slides them to Yuuri. "Due to the absence of the child's birth parents when you were undergoing the legalization of custody, there are no official legal papers stating that's she's a 'Katsuki'." 

 

Yuuri's heart drops.

 

_What?_

 

"You need the birth parents to be present in order for the process to be completed, Mr. Katsuki." The lawyer purses his lips. "Albeit it  _is_ possible for you to adopt the child even without the birth parents, the process will last much more longer until she is at least _ten_. So now, we have full control on which is which, do you understand?"

 

(in other words: these people want their kid back whom they purposely abandoned and Yuuri felt like he could die)

 

_-_

 

_"You... You can play?"_

 

_Yuuri raises an eyebrow, slightly confused at Viktor's sudden question._

 

_"Play? Play what?"_

 

_Viktor nods weakly at the keyboard tucked away at the corner of the room. Yuuri's eyebrows raised, smiling a little. It's been so long. His mother played the piano, so they figured it wouldn't hurt if Yuuri knew how to play too? He's not a professional, but he could play a decent tune._

 

_He looks at the pale, silver haired man. "Do you want me to?"_

 

_At Viktor's small nod, Yuuri stands up and sets up the keyboard near Viktor's wheelchair, so he could watch. Yuuri boots it up, the little blue light of the small screen in the center flaring, and Yuuri flexes his fingers._

 

_He bites his lip, feeling a little anxious. It's been so long since he's played, maybe a good three or so years. While he could remember a few snippets of notes here and there, his mind has gone blank. Immediately, he knew how much of a fool he was._

 

_But Viktor wanted him to play._

 

_So he looks deep into his mind, scavenging for hidden pieces and chords to try and put together a symphony. While doing so, he pulls out the stand he uses to prop up his music sheet. He looks through a few pieces, scoffing at some. He finally remembers one, from an old movie he used to watch as a child. About an orphan girl who was lost in St. Petersburg, trying to look for answers in Paris._

 

_He finds the sheet of music, and sets it up. Soon, he found himself playing['Once Upon a December'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpXHdegMTtw) , from Anastasia. He wasn't sure if Viktor knows of the movie, but by the happy sigh from Viktor, he knew Viktor must've watched it before considering he's from Russia himself. His mother loved the movie, and he'd sworn to learn the song just for her. It was one of the first pieces he'd ever memorized, and thankfully, he still memorizes it until now._

 

_His fingers dance over the keys effortlessly, stumbling on a note once in a while. Hey, he wasn't a professional, don't judge. The song starts soft, twinkling with high notes, before it settles unto a much more passionate tone with the singer desperate to remember what she used to know, until finally, the singer rests on a small note, a quiet whisper in contrast to the previously agitated tune._

 

_The moment he's done, he pants a little and rubs his sore hands._

 

_He looks up and sees Viktor fast asleep, a small smile on his face._

 

_-_

 

Yuuri was on a boat that was ready to topple over, but it never crashed.

 

He chokes on a sob as he runs his hands through his hair, feeling his fingers get tangled through his messy locks, and he clenches them, relishing in the short stinging pain that has managed to distract him for a moment from the pounding hurt in his heart. He felt the tears run tracks down his cheeks, leaving cold, wet, glistening trails down his skin.

 

His Vania, his daughter, his _sweetheart_ , was going to be taken away from him.

 

Once again, he finally knew the true pain that only a parent could know. He'd seen it in movies, books, in T.V Dramas, he'd never really known that it hurt _so much._ How would you feel, if a person you'd known, loved, cherished and taken care of, would be taken away with just a snap of someone's fingers?

 

Life was unfair.

 

He was there for the whole of Vania's life. He'd been there to change her diapers and tie her shoelaces and pack her lunches. He'd been there to introduce to her ballet, endure math homework with her, teach her Japanese. He'd gone through every tantrum and every shriek of 'I want  _that_ one Papa!'. He'd been there to put band aids on the scrapes on her knees and teach her proper manners.

 

He'd been there for  _everything._

 

And now, someone who'd chosen to abandon their child, could just take it all away?

 

It was like what happened six years ago again. He'd... He'd lose someone he loves to the waves again, and this time, he wasn't sure if he could bear it. 

 

It hurt for the first year. Everything could remind him of Viktor. A flash of silver. A ray of gold. A droplet of water. Hearing someone laugh with the same twinkle in the tune like Viktor did. He'd see blue, blue and more blue. It hurt him, physically and emotionally. He found himself being drunk most of the time, and it wasn't really good for his liver either. 

 

He figures he's going to be like that, an angry and depressed drunkard who relishes in past memories and broken dreams.

 

Until he met Vania.

 

"Papa?"

 

He jumps, whipping his head to look at the door. He sees the little girl, holding the poodle plush toy in one arm as she runs a sleepy fist across her eyes. Yuuri kicks the multiple bottles of alcohol under the bed, some under his pillow. He knew some would stain, but honestly, he does  _not give a flying fuck_.

 

"H-Hi sweetie." He mumbles, trying to smile. He can't. He felt his cheeks crack. "What are you doing up? Go back to bed-"

 

"Did you have a nightmare?" She asks softly, looking up at him with so much innocence and worry. 

 

Yuuri sighs, and smiles a little. "I did, but I'm okay now. You can go back to bed-"

 

"Nuh uh." Vania hops over and climbs unto Yuuri's queen sized bed, bouncing on the mattress as she plops beside him. "As your personal fairy princess warrior knight, I am authorized to protect and serve King Katsudon against any type of nightmare monster, at all costs."

 

Yuuri laughs, feeling some sort of weight lift off his chest. He reaches over and ruffles her messy bed hair. "Well, fairy princess warrior knight, I  _thank you_ for your service."

 

Vania nods with a solemn look, pursing her lip. "It is my honor. Now if you please, lay down so you may have your rest."

 

Yuuri does so, obediently lying down next to the child, who was sitting up. She nudges his head so it was on her lap, and she braids the slightly longer strands of dark black hair that Yuuri was starting to grow out.

 

"Don't worry Papa, you always stayed by my side when I get nightmares." She mumbles, and Yuuri smiles. "It's time I protect  _you_ for a change."

 

(thankfully, the child doesn't notice Yuuri crying a few moments later)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri thought his life couldn't go on any worse.

 

"Yu-topia is closing down."

 

He was wrong.

 

"W-What...?" He manages to croak out. He felt his grip on the phone unintentionally, almost smashing it. He could hear the forlorn voice of his mother on the other line, her tone sweet yet beaten with age.

 

"Our expenses couldn't pay for it, dearie. Some officials wanted to turn the land into a hotel or something, I don't know. But we can't afford to keep the hotspring running," Hiroko sighs, sadness dripping in her voice. "Not anymore."

 

(he schedules for a flight to Japan later on)

 

_-_

 

He figures, he's not going to give up.

 

Life is unfair, he knows that. He knows that life is a merciless ocean, filled with storms and waves that could crush you to bits. The weak drown and die, the strong ones manage to find some sort of island as a manner of temporary salvation before they become stranded again, and then there are the few unlucky ones, who are just in between.

 

Yuuri is one of those few unlucky ones.

 

He's not weak enough to drown and die, he'll keep swimming and swimming and until he sees an island, and he's going to be filled with joy. But before he could reach that island, he's going to be swept off again. He's been through almost  _everything_. He's been through failures and embarrassments, success and happiness and the sweet things in life, but he's never reached that island.

 

Today, Yuuri finally realized something.

 

"I want to take the case to court." Yuuri announces, looking at the lawyer across from him in the eye. "I've taken care of the child for six years now, I am sure that I have rights over her."

 

"No, you don't." The woman snaps, scoffing. "We want to take our child back with absolutely  _no_ hassle-"

 

"If you want that to happen, you have to go by my conditions first." He says, leaning forwards with a small smirk on his face. He takes out an envelope filled with all of the documents he's managed to trudge through last night. It was filled with every record, every receipt, every sort of evidence that he could find.

 

" _These,_ are the things that I have spent on Vania." He slides it to them, and the lawyer tentatively takes the envelope in his hands. "School tuition fees, dance classes, recitals, skating lessons, food and toys, field trip expenses, the medical bills I had to pay when she was an infant, doctrine shots, you know, the usual." Yuuri shrugs casually as he leans back, looking at the horror emanate from their faces.

 

"I did my research,  _since_ she's technically  _your_ daughter and she's still a minor, the law states that the biological parents are supposed to meet the needs of their child." Yuuri says, smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm technically like a babysitter. So in short, you owe me a  _huge_ amount of money. I could either sue you for failure of paying your debts,  _or..._ "

 

He tries not to laugh at their expressions. Yuuri was not that really rich, but he was sort of well off. He'd won in multiple skating and dance contests alike, and he's got a stable job in a company  _and_ in a dance studio. It wasn't really wrong to spoil your kid from time to time, right? After all, he knew his Vania deserved the best, and only the best. So what if he enrolled her in a private school? He'd made sure that spending money on her won't be a bad thing, so Vania did exceptional in school too. Not to mention that time she got sick when she was a baby, and all those dance recitals she's gone through...

 

"Or we take this to court, and I get to fight for Vania." He finishes, sickeningly sweet smile on his face. "Simple as that."

 

"This... This is blasphemy!" The father explains, clutching at one of the documents with wide eyes. "This isn't legal-"

 

"Actually, it is." The lawyer comments, reading through one of the tuition fee receipts. "Mr. Katsuki has spent his own money on a child that's not his own. It is  _your_ responsibility to pay him back, or if you couldn't, like he said, we have to take this to court."

 

Yuuri realized that he doesn't want to be weak, be strong, or be unlucky. He wants to be either. He wants to drift along the waves, just letting life flow and let him drift to where he was supposed to be. Sure, he'll steer himself to where he wants to be, but when life takes the wheel, there was nothing he could do, right? But he will win. He'll win against the waves.

 

(Yuuri tried not to cackle at their seething faces. He's going to win)

 

_-_

 

_"I want to be buried in Hasetsu."_

 

_Yuuri's heart pounds._

 

_"Viktor, no-"_

 

_"Face it, Yuuri." Viktor smiles weakly as he stares at the man with his tired eyes. "You can't avoid it forever. I... I don't k-know when, but it's going to happen... Don't... Don't prelude yourself, or t-think that there's a w-way, because there's n-no way."_

 

_Yuuri chokes on his breath, their gaze locking. Yuuri couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take in the cold dead eyes of Viktor's, and he looks down at his shoes._

 

_He hears Viktor laugh. A small, breathy laugh._

 

_"Isn't... Isn't it stupid? H-How we associate death with... with sadness." Viktor sighs, closing his eyes. "Y-Yuuri, love, it doesn't... it doesn't have to be a sad t-thing. It doesn't... It doesn't have t-to be."_

 

_"I'll... I'll always be there, o... okay? Even if you leave, or go somewhere else... Y-You... You can always come home. I'll always be h-here. I'll always be in Hasetsu. If you feel a-alone, or if... if you miss me, come... come home to Hasetsu... Come home to me."_

 

_-_

 

"Also, one thing."

 

The three of them look up, with the lawyer looking at him questionably and the 'parents' still glaring at him.

 

"Before we do anything drastic... I want to take her to Japan for a couple of days."

 

"No." The father says immediately, and Yuuri's eyebrows raise.

 

"I won't stow her away, don't worry." Yuuri says, waving a hand in dismissal. "My family will be moving from our home there, and I need to help them out. Vania's been there multiple times, too. I figured...  _If_ you win the court  _or_ pay me back, it'd be nice for her to see my home town just... Just one last time, if it's too much to ask. 

 

He bites his lip, feeling the tears sting his eyes.

 

_Damn, don't cry don't cry don't cry-_

 

"Fine then, Mr. Katsuki. We will allow you to take the child on a vacation." The lawyer says, gathering up the pieces of evidence and handing them back to Yuuri's hands. " _However,_ if you don't manage to complete the proceedings and don't attend our informal court meeting, we will have to take you in as abiding to human trafficking. Okay?"

 

("okay.")

 

_-_

 

Yuuri's happy to come home.

 

He's spent most of the six years that have passed in Detroit, or at some other place. He'd raised Vania in Detroit too and only managed to visit three or four times a year. Vania, luckily,  _loves_ Hasetsu. She loves skipping down the beach and playing with the triplets. She calls Hiroko 'oba-chan' or 'grandma', much to Hiroko's delight. Yuuri has taught the child decent Japanese, and she's learning how to write it too.

 

If only he could teach her Russian, too.

 

 _God,_ that hurt.

 

The whole family had greeted them happily, giving out warm hugs and laughs. Minako and Yuuko were there too, albeit Minako had a few graying hairs already. Yuuri had teased her mildly, before being promptly smacked in the face. The triplets, who were already over ten, were happy to play with little Vania while the adults sat and ate.

 

Yuuri looks around, and it would've looked like the same years ago. The inn would be filled with visitors, eating around the T.V. His father would be in the kitchen, whipping up an endless stream of food for hungry customers. The rooms would be packed with tourists.

 

Now it was empty. Most of the decorations were gone. The kitchen was closed down. There were moving boxes littered everywhere. It was quiet, except for their constant chatter of catching up. It was just them. 

 

(Yuuri couldn't bring himself to visit Viktor's grave)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri looks around his room, knowing full well that it was going to be the last time he'll see it.

 

"You had such a nice room, Papa!" Vania grins, bouncing on the small twin bed Yuuri has. "I wish I had one like this!"

 

Yuuri smiles, looking at the bookshelf, filled with books with yellowing pages. "When we go home, we'll redecorate your room, okay?"

 

"YAY!" Vania giggles, and she flops on the bed. Yuuri chuckles as he skims over his prized collections. A few collectibles, some figurines. He'd see flashes of his childhood, and Yuuri smiles. An old storybook, some pages of a notebook, his old school bag. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or sad, considering the fact that he was so  _old_.

 

Well, thirty wasn't  _that_ old, right?

 

He shakes his head, accepting the fact that one day, he'll be frail and brittle. But it was okay, because he'd have people to take care of him...

 

Right?

 

Anyways, he should probably start packing up. He'd promised to help with the moving process, boxing up every single belonging they had to move. His mother and father had already decided upon a quiet house by the ocean, where they could live in peace. Yuuri is happy for his parents. They grew up happy, peaceful, and most importantly, they grew up together.

 

He shoves multiple things into the boxes that were already laid out for him to shove things in. He'd thrown old textbooks into a trash bag he had nearby, not wanting to see another freaking math algorithm again. He shoves the old mini figures he had, some medals and skating certificates he'd won.

 

He stops short when he sees the picture frame.

 

It used to be a picture of Viktor. It was a cheap poster off a magazine, but Yuuri treasured it like a relic. He bought a picture frame that mimicked the posters size, because it had to be  _perfec t. _It was a picture of Viktor Nikiforov in his skating glory, hair tousled and arms outstretched with blue light illuminating his beautiful face.

 

It used to be that picture, now it was something different.

 

A picture of them replaced the poster. Both of them smiling widely, with Viktor pressing a kiss to Yuuri's cheek. It looked like a selfie, with Yuuri looking like he's the one holding out the camera with a blush on his cheeks. Yuuri knew that he'd gone through the trouble of printing it out, just to place that there. He knew it was simple. He knew it was silly. He knew it was perfect...

 

He knew it would never happen again.

 

"Papa?" A small voice, his anchor to this world, brought him back to Earth. He gasped a little, feeling the small twinge in his heart slowly fade away. As the years passed, the pain was still there, but it lessened.

 

Nonetheless, it was still there,

 

"Are you okay?" Yuuri nods, facing his daughter as he clears his throat. Vania narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, and she opens her mouth to speak, when something catches her eye behind Yuuri.

 

"Oh my, Papa, you can play?"

 

_-_

 

_After Yuuri plays and Viktor wakes up a few hours later, they both watch Anastasia in a blanket fort with junk food and popcorn._

 

_-_

 

"That was so beautiful!" Vania gushes, clapping her hands as Yuuri smiles, a little sweaty. Who knew piano could be as invigorating as skating? Seriously, don't ever underestimate the instrument. Yuuri felt like his fingers would fall off. 

 

"When did you learn, Papa? You have so many talents that you don't even tell me!" Vania pouts, crossing her arms. "What's next, you actually know how to pole dance?"

 

Yuuri freezes, eyes wide.

 

_How did she..._

 

"Well, of course, you don't  _happen_ to actually know how to pole dance, do you?" Vania purses her lip. "Uncle Chris is good at it, so yeah."

 

Yuuri sighs in relief, thankful. One day, he'd tell Vania that he has a lot, _a lot_ , up his sleeve. But then... how did Vania know about pole dancing? He was seriously going to chew out Chris later on-

 

"What  _are_ these things, Papa?" Vania asks as she grasps at the sheet music from the stand, rummaging through them like the curious child she was. "What's this language? What-"

 

"Those are notes, dear." Yuuri says, wiping his sweaty forehead. "They help me play. And the paper is called  _sheet music_."

 

Vania nods in understanding, mouth slightly agape as she flips through them all, not really understanding a single thing. Just as Yuuri was going to unplug the keyboard, Vania's voice pulls him out of his demeanor.

 

"How come you haven't opened  _this_ one yet, Papa?"

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow as he sets the keyboard leaning against the wall. It'd be a shame to lose the thing, he'd have to find a way to box it up later on. "What?"

 

Vania waves a piece of paper around. "There's a sheet music that hasn't been opened yet, and it has your name on it!"

 

Yuuri stops, and walks back over to the bed, next to the child. He leans in and takes the paper curiously. "What? Let me see-"

 

It wasn't a piece of paper, nor was it sheet music.

 

It was an envelope.

 

It was small, yellowed, looked fragile, and had something inside.

 

_Katsuki Yuuri_

 

Fine cursive adorned the front. It was flourished and snobby, with embellished calligraphy designs on the letters and a small heart at the end.

 

(he knew only one person could ever write like that)

 

_-_

 

Yuuri could never bear to read it in front of his family, or in front of his daughter.

 

He knew he would be weak.

 

He would be weak, even if six years have passed.

 

So he'd ran out without a word, leaving behind a confused Vania. He'd asked his mother to not let her follow him, and, ignoring their concerned questions, got out there as fast as he could.

 

He got out there, clutching at the envelope with a vise like grip.

 

He ran and ran, until he couldn't run anymore. He found himself by the beach, his shoes digging into the sand and the cool afternoon air blowing at his face. He collapses on the sand, heaving and panting and sweating, and  _afraid,_ so so  _afraid._

 

With shaking hands, he opens the letter, the yellowing envelope ripping easily. He takes out the paper inside, and reads. The letters there were a little sloppy and were written with numerous colors of ink, like Viktor had a hard time writing the letter and he'd written it at different time intervals.

 

_Katsudon,_

 

_If you watch movies, read books, or seen the T.V Shows, you'd see that romantic stories always have this some sort of idealized meeting between the two main characters. Their first encounter would be consisted of dreamy looks and ridiculous declarations of love at first sight. At first, I thought it was weird and ridiculous, but I realized that's how our story went too._

 

 _You have entered my life in all your drunken glory, wired and running on multiple flutes of champagne. You'd rambled on and on about your home and multiple personal details about you, I had to stop you from giving me your credit card pin, it was adorable. And darling, you had a crush on me? I know, we're engaged, but it's embarrassing_ _._

 

_Kidding. I'm kidding._

 

_Please don't be mad._

 

Yuuri rolls his eyes, but he could never ever stop the blush that was starting to crawl up his cheeks.  _God,_ that banquet was seven years ago! Why was it making him flustered still?

 

_Anyways, moving on._

 

_And then I saw that video of you skating to my routine, and it was enough for me to buy a ticket to Japan and show up in your home, naked. Come to think of it, thinking of what I did back then makes me want to bang my head against the wall. If only I could, love, if only I could. But I guess that makes us even now, right?_

 

Yuuri chuckles.

 

_Oh Vitya, we'd never be even._

 

 

_I was 26 when I found out._

 

 _The doctor's said that it was supposed to be my last season. I'd never be able to skate again. But you should know that I am a stubborn son of a bitch, and I skated anyways. I won my fifth consecutive gold medal in that Grand Prix too, so suck on that, world!_ _But still, even you could not deny that my body has been failing. I was horrified to see that my hair's thinning, that I'm starting to loose weight drastically. My skin has gone paler, and my strength is failing. I used to have a stamina like yours, but it's obviously gone now._

 

_I've realized that life is unfair, but you gotta accept that, right? I knew I was unfair to you, that I've damned you into a world of pain and hurt when I'm gone. But I know... I know you'll be okay. You're a strong one, Katsuki Yuuri. You wouldn't let life beat you down, you'd challenge it to a fist fight._

 

_But here's the thing: I'm sorry._

 

Yuuri squints, seeing the letters have started to get sloppier, as if he's having a hard time writing the next paragraphs.

 

_I'm sorry for not telling you. I'm sorry for hiding everything. I'm sorry for being stupid. I'm sorry for being sick. I'm sorry for falling in love with you. I'm sorry for you falling in love with me. I'm sorry for the kisses and the hugs and the love. I'm sorry for the promises and the stupid little things that I couldn't keep. You deserved all those promises, you deserved all that love, but you deserved more, and I know I couldn't give you more._

 

_I promised you a world full of happiness and peace, everything we could've ever wanted. We'd adopt kids and multiple dogs and we'd live by the beach. We'd build little tree houses for our children, even though we don't know a damn thing about building, but we'll try. Because we'd be awesome dads. We'd teach them how to skate and dance, and we'd have movie nights and watch Disney movies until we all fall asleep on the couch. We'd argue over which language we should teach them first, and we'd gross them out with our endless PDA. Yurio and Mila and Otabek and the others would be their aunts and uncles and we'd have family reunions and everything. I'd wake up every morning next to you, alive, healthy, happy._

 

_But that could never happen. It was 'the end; for our story._

 

_God, that hurt._

 

Yuuri winces, feeling the tears prick at his eyes.

 

It did.

 

_But I don't want to stop you. I don't want to keep you damned forever._

 

_So I want you to erase the 'the end' of our story, and write a new one. Go adopt a dog, and maybe some kids. Teach them ballet and skating and break dancing. Build tree houses and watch Disney movies and teach them Japanese. Teach them how to cook and feed them Katsudon. Let them play with their Uncle Yurio, you know he has a soft spot for children, no matter how much he denies it. Don't let me stop you._

 

_I'll just have to ask you one thing._

 

_Don't forget me, okay?_

 

Yuuri chokes out a sob, feeling the tears start to run down his cheeks.

 

_Tell them about their Papa Viktor, how he was so dashingly hot and awesome and how he managed to sweep the infamous Katsuki Yuuri off his anxious feet. Tell them about Makkachin and how sweet he was. Tell them about the time I kissed you in front of international T.V. Tell them about my signature move in skating. Tell them that I love them. Tell them that even though I'm not there, I'll always be with them._

 

_Tell them everything. Tell them our story._

 

_Don't let our story end._

 

 _And I know, you'll worry. You always do. You don't have to. God, you always worry. It makes_  me _worry too, you know. You're not alone in this, damn it. I'm here. I'll always be here._ When _you'll feel sad and alone, lonely or broken, I'll always be here. If you need to run off to somewhere, I'll always be here. I'll always be in Hasetsu. If you need me, come home. Come home to me._

 

_I'll always be waiting._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Regards,_

 

 

 

_Viktor Nikiforov_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_p.s if you don't already know, i checked the 'marry yuuri' box early because i knew. i believed in you. it's time you believed in yourself too_

 

 

 

The waves were there again.

 

It crashed and pummeled against his boat, wrecking his sails and ruining the deck. He'd been thrown back and forth, clutching at the rails in hopes to cling unto life. Unto salvation. But no. He's thrown out into the ocean, thrown into the mercy of the unforgiving seas.

 

The sobs were uncontrollable now, and he's had multiple bite marks on his hand in an attempt to stop the sounds from escaping his mouth. The water came back and forth to the shore, tickling his feet with water. His tears mixed in with the salty sea, and he  _couldn't stop._

 

 _I'm so sorry Viktor._ His mind screams.  _I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry._

 

He'd chose to forget him. Chose to forget the pain. But while doing so, he'd also forgotten the Viktor that had lived on in him. The Viktor who had an obsession with puppies and had that heart shaped smile. The Viktor who loved food and fashion. The Viktor who tickled him and made him coffee in the morning. The Viktor who he loved. The Viktor who fought, but inevitably, lost.

 

Why? What kind of person would he be? He deserved to drown... He deserved every punishment the ocean could ever offer. He deserved the pain. He deserved it all. He thought he'd overcome it. He thought, one day, he would leave the pain. He thought he'd forget, and move on.

 

He never forgot.

 

"Papa!"

 

Yuuri's head whipped to the sound, and his eyes widened at Vania's form that was currently running towards him. Yuuri hurriedly wipes at his face, trying hard to conceal the tears and the snot off his face, and he bursts into a shaky smile. He's a little worried on how the kid had managed to follow him until here. "Sweetheart, what are you doing-"

 

Once she reaches her, Vania pants, before frowning and crossing her arms.

 

"I knew you were crying, stop hiding from me." She murmurs, eyes fierce. "Why did you run off? Oba-chan tried to stop me from following you, but I'm a sneaky fairy princess warrior knight."

 

The little girl sighs, before sitting down next to Yuuri on the sand. Yuuri seemed contented for a moment, letting the silence wash over them and hearing nothing but the sound of the gulls and the waves, accompanied by Vania's faint humming.

 

"Is it because of the lawyer guy?" 

 

Yuuri's eyebrows rise, a little appalled at the question of the little girl next to him. "What?"

 

"I heard what you guys were talking about." Vania murmurs, drawing little doodles on the sand. "Those people... They're my real mommy and daddy?" Vania asks, looking up at Yuuri with wide, blue eyes.

 

Yuuri swallows, feeling his mouth dry up.

 

Vania had known she was adopted. Yuuri was not one of those parents to hide things from their children. He told her that there was no shame in being adopted, and that it should be a blessing because Yuuri  _chose_ to take care of her. Luckily, the child was understanding enough.

 

However, he hadn't told her about her real parents. 

 

"Yes." Yuuri wheezes, voice slightly cracking. "They are."

 

"Well I don't like them." Vania scrunches her nose, like she's smelling something nasty. "They look cranky and the woman's voice makes me want to wear earplugs."

 

Yuuri suddenly laughs, eyes crinkling against the tears that were just streaming down his face. Vania grins at the sound, and she laughs along. It seems like the tension has lifted off them, and Yuuri felt like he could breathe again. Suddenly, they fall into silence once more.

 

After such, Vania's small voice interrupts the silence.

 

"Will you let them take me away?"

 

"Good god, no." Yuuri's eyebrows furrow as he looks at her with this intrigued look on his face. "No, Vania. I'll never let them get you, not without a fight."

 

"Good then." Vania pulls her feet up to her chest, and hugs them. "I don't wanna be with them."

 

Yuuri doesn't answer for a while.

 

"Why not?"

 

Vania sighs, and looks out unto the vast ocean.

 

"I feel like I'll be alone with them." Vania mutters into her knees. "I don't wanna be alone, or forgotten." Vania closes her eyes, obscuring the bright blue that is her orbs.

 

"You won't forget me, will you?"

 

Yuuri doesn't answer.

 

He doesn't need to answer.

 

He sighs, and stands up, shaking the sand off his pants. He looks down at the child, and holds out a hand. 

 

"Come, I have a story to tell you."

 

_-_

 

Yuuri smiles fondly as he leads the little girl up the hill, avoiding tombstones and other stone relics and whatnot to keep them from possible tripping. Vania looks around curiously, eyes wide as she takes the cemetery in.

 

Finally, they reach the top of the hill, where Viktor's grave was set.

 

The stone was no longer brand new, with it cracking and the words on it fading a bit. The dirt and dried up flowers were obviously swept away by the wind and time. Next to the stone, Makkachin's leash and collar sat next to it peacefully. The graves were old, but nonetheless, Yuuri could read the elegant cursive on the stone perfectly.

 

_till death do us part_

 

Vania stares for a moment, blue eyes curiosly wide as she runs her chubby little fingers over the words, before promptly sitting down on the padded dirt.

 

"Hello, Papa Viktor! You may not know me, but I'm Vania! Papa Yuuri told me  _a lot_ about you-"

 

Yuuri couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face as the tears started to rush down his cheeks once more.

 

"I wish i would've known about you sooner, you sound really cool! Did you really win five medals? Papa told me you love skating, and I love skating too! Papa also said that-"

 

Yuuri sighs contendedly, shoving his chilly hands into his coat. Tho almost reminded him of a scene... six years ago. For some reason, Yuuri doesn't feel sad. He doesn't cry. He doesn't worry. He's just there, and it was alright.

 

Katsuki Yuuri was alright.

 

Yuuri starts to listen to his daughter's questions and her endless curious flattery, and he sits down next to her, next to Makkachin, next to Viktor.

 

Finally, he's home.

 

_-_

 

_However, the playboy found himself seeing that woman's face everywhere he went, and he discovered that he was in love. So he returns and begs for forgiveness and love, and as time passes, the woman learns to forgive him. And they live happily ever after._

 

_The End_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've felt like the last chapter held too many questions that were _way_ too unanswered, so here's this. I do not know if this is a fitting end of the story, but hopefully you guys will think otherwise.
> 
> Okay, I know, I know. I don't know much about the law and adoption processes, so sorry if I get anything wrong. I've tried to research and ask my mom, because she adopted my little brother. So far, I'm not sure if I'm actually right. I'm sorry if I offend anyone, and please let me know if I've done anything wrong!
> 
> I would just like to say, _thank_ you all. This thang got over a hundred comments, like what the fuck. Multitudes of people asked me if I was okay, if I was doing well, and other shit. Thank you guys for being so caring. I've accepted that life's not fair and you loose some things along the way, but it's okay. Lots of people shared their stories in the comments, stories about someone they love passing away or something like that, and it made me feel better that I was not alone. 
> 
> I've lost said little brother to Leukemia. He's not of my blood, and my mother and father has found him as an infant when someone had left him on our doorstep, much like Vania in this story. We've loved him and cherished him, even when he had doubts that he's not really one of us since he's just adopted. I'm afraid he still held those doubts until his death. That thought scares me. What would be worse... Holding the burdens and fears of life until the moment it ended.
> 
> So thank you all. You don't have to know my little story, but I want to hear yours. Don't be afraid to put it in the comments, if it makes you feel better, or maybe even pm me (trashqueencakes) at my tumblr. I'll be there, I'll always be there.
> 
> Once again, thank you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Honorable mention: why was the marry yuuri option in the bucket list checked? Hm?
> 
>  
> 
> im sorry if this sucks. im currently going through a rough patch in my life and i wanted to let it all out through means of typing. this sucks. I suck. Im sorry


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